


Faces That You Meet

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Asgard, Asgardian Culture, Asgardian Magic, Bondage, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Magic, Multi, Praise Kink, Red Room, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-06 00:07:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 44,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5395298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A left turn instead of a right, and Loki tumbled down into the frozen tundra of Russia, right outside the Red Room. An honest mistake, but it soon changed <i>everything.</i> And he was never one to share his toys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Disturb The Universe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [t0bemadeofglass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/t0bemadeofglass/gifts).



> Based off of [futurerustfuture-dust](http://futurerustfuture-dust.tumblr.com)'s initial dark!blackwinterfrost idea. I didn't use the written material you sent me exactly, but here's hoping you like this one, too. :) Russian words have hovertext translation thanks to Google Translate, so please let me know if I goofed something and I'll fix it. Title, epigraph and chapter titles are all from ["The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" by T.S. Eliot.](http://www.bartleby.com/198/1.html)

_There will be time, there will be time  
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;  
There will be time to murder and create,  
And time for all the works and days of hands  
That lift and drop a question on your plate;  
Time for you and time for me,  
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,  
And for a hundred visions and revisions,  
Before the taking of a toast and tea._  
― T.S. Eliot

 

The tundra was colder than Loki Odinson thought it would be. It more than cooled the anger he felt that had driven him from Asgard after one too many jibes to his character. Loki was gifted at _seidr,_ unnaturally so, but perhaps this affinity was why he had such different coloring and temperament than his older brother. Thor, burly and blond and loud, cavorted and postured, relied on his brawn and first born status. Loki was lithe and wiry, dark haired and quiet, given to sarcasm and wit more than mindless violence. He didn't begrudge his brother the throne, but would have preferred more respect for his skill. Tricks though they were, they came in handy and often saved the royal brothers.

"My sun and moon," their mother would call them, smiling with pleasure. Queen Frigga of Asgard was the epitome of grace, beauty, knowledge and kindness. It was she that recognized Loki's skill and encouraged it.

Loki wasn't sure if he should resent her for it or not.

No one knew that he was aware of paths off world besides the Bifrost, and it was a secret he guarded quite jealously. Taking a left turn through the corridors off of Asgard had left him in an unbearably cold place. Not Jotunheim, he knew that much.

A simple spell sent him in the direction of a large complex with walled-in grounds. They were tall, made of dull gray concrete and concertina wire coiled atop it. The building was rather nondescript as well, and he thought it looked rather like a dingy gray prison. Loki floated above the frigid landscape, invisible to the eye, determined to see what sort of place this was. Why would there be a prison out in the snow, in the middle of nowhere?

Little girls were in one courtyard, standing in rows, facing each other in the snow, dressed in only flimsy white nightgowns. A rather stern looking woman with a clipboard and pen stood at the end. She wore heavy winter clothing, her parka lined with fur. When one girl began to shiver, the woman barked out a sharp reprimand. The girl tried to stop, but the shivering only grew even more intense.

The woman was going to harm the girl, he realized, and couldn't simply allow that to happen.

He cast a translation spell and covered himself with an illusion, so that he would look like whoever was in charge. The woman would have to obey and get the little girls back inside before they all froze to death.

"Comrade Bezukhov!" the woman cried when he appeared to walk into the courtyard. "What an unexpected pleasure. As you can see, we are conducting the first of the environmental tests."

Loki looked at the shivering, miserable girl, her blonde hair frozen to her scalp. "And that one?"

"Failing, obviously," the woman said with derision in her voice. "We have to issue a correction."

The girl looked terrified. This was probably not her first failure and correction.

"The others are doing admirably. And of course, our star in the class is Natalia." The woman looked at a girl with bright red hair and vivid green eyes. She flicked a glance toward the two of them without shifting her head. Loki somehow had the feeling that she saw through his illusion, though it would be impossible.

"Get them inside. Enough testing for today," Loki ordered her.

She managed not to sputter, but the woman was clearly confused. "Right away, sir," she said with a crisp, efficient nod. She barked orders at the girl, and they all turned with clockwork precision and marched back inside. The redhead managed to sneak a glance at Loki, brows furrowing and lips slightly downturned. But when she realized he was looking at her, her features instantly smoothed into impassivity.

Interesting. Perhaps he could explore this strange place and figure out what was going on. That would relieve any boredom, and certainly was distracting himself from his anger.

Following the woman inside, Loki soon learned about the facility. Russia's Red Room, spoken about only in certain circles and only then in whispers, was the training ground for the best female assassins that the world has ever seen. "They will wear any face, are anyone, can do anything," one of the handlers boasted. "They are the perfect machines, tools to the regime, the lever used to press the right buttons." There was some kind of uncomfortable undercurrent to his words that Loki didn't want to examine.

"They are children," he murmured, still apparently wearing the face of Comrade Bezukhov.

The handler he was speaking to laughed, but it was cruel, edged laughter. "They are killers already. They are not children any longer."

"Killers, eh? No glorious battles to speak of, then?" Loki guessed, disdain not apparent in his tone. Not that the handler seemed to care about that kind of thing. He hurried to detail various assignments the girls in his care were sent on, usually to trap politicians with blackmail material, killing them outright, or torturing them slowly for information.

They were tools. Objects meant to be used for specific functions, discarded when broken or no longer useful in some way. Even the weaker girls were still useful, as they were sparring partners or target practice. Every single girl, from the tiny Mariska to the wildly successful Natalia, were nothing more than numbers in a ledger or pawns on a chessboard. These handlers and officials liked to think of themselves as kings, but they were cruel and disgusting, and Loki knew what true kingship was like.

No longer amused by his stay, Loki nodded briskly at the man and left. He let invisibility cloak him again, and he stalked the halls, agitation in his step. Something didn't feel right here. Or perhaps it was a dissatisfaction within himself. He was no longer angry at the words that Volstagg had uttered in his ignorance. In fact, Loki couldn't even recall them. They were nothing more than the fleeting shadow of a cloud passing in front of a sun.

He saw the girls in their dorm, the woman from earlier overseeing them. A knot of four girls were beating on the fragile one that had shivered, the woman cold and unyielding as she watched. The redhead didn't join in the fray or watch, but was making up several beds to keep busy. Her eyes flicked back a few times, lips pressed together, but she otherwise had no reaction when the little girl wailed. She didn't enjoy casual cruelty the way some of the other girls did, but was also interested in her own survival in this place.

Loki left the dorm and went looking for the route back to Asgard. It was the shining beacon of hope and order within the Nine Realms, of that he was absolutely certain now.

***

There wasn't opportunity to think on the odd sojourn to Midgard until some time later, when Thor roared with disappointment at being bested by Loki at a practice session. Loki had been swift on his feet, far more nimble than Thor, and had scored more hits in a shorter amount of time than anyone else in their number. Hogun had nodded at Loki appreciatively, Fandral made some kind of flippant comment, and Volstagg scowled at his broken record. Sif said nothing, still staring down at her blade with her long dark hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. The other warriors they trained with laughed at Thor. Most didn't necessarily praise Loki for the skills he did possess, but they all acknowledged he knew how to fight well.

"Careful there, my prince," one of the warriors taunted. He had gotten injured earlier in the day and had started drinking mead steadily ever since. "One would think you've never held a sword before, the way you lost."

A hush fell over the entire company. The drunk didn't seem to think he did anything wrong, and continued drinking. Thor narrowed his eyes at the man, but it was Loki who rushed forward, sword still in hand, and stabbed him in the gut before he was even aware of what he was doing. But no one could insult his older brother but him, and certainly not regarding his skill with swords or battle. The slander was so patently false, but stirred a deep anger inside of Loki that couldn't be quenched even with the idiot's blood flowing. Other warriors had to keep him back so he didn't stab the man again or lop off his head.

"Hold, Loki," Thor said, resting a hand on his arm. "He is simply deep in his cups."

"And the vile words on his tongue are an insult to be repaid," Loki replied, shaking off the unwanted hands holding him back.

"Then I should repay it, as the insult was dealt to me," Thor said evenly, shaking his head at the wounded man. "I can fight my own battles Loki. I don't need my little brother doing it for me."

Loki grit his teeth, because clearly Thor was belittling his efforts to help. "I see," he replied tightly. He tossed his sword aside; it was only a practice blade, not one of the more finely crafted ones anyway, and stalked from the practice field. He ignored the others talking or calling out to him, ignored the Warriors Three looking at him or Sif's questioning gaze. Their very presence felt cloying and awful, an affront to his sensibilities. He disappeared through the halls of the training grounds, past the stables, slipping into the shadows. His dark coloring worked well for him here, because he was able to move without being seen by palace staff.

Before he knew what he was consciously about, Loki had wound his way through the hidden soft spots beneath the palace. One of them was a way to walk the branches of Yggdrasil to visit other realms. He hadn't taken this way before, but it called to him, a familiar pull in his blood. His feet knew the way to walk, and before he knew it, he was tumbling out onto a familiar tundra.

It was spring now, warmer and brighter, fading traces of melting snow. The complex still looked like some kind of industrial prison, but a bit more worn in places. Casting his spells, he tried to think back on the last time he had been to this place. It must have been something like a year, perhaps. He really hadn't thought much of it at first; Midgard was full of cruel, backward people that appeared to like torturing young children and abusing them in ever more creative ways. But Asgard didn't seem like such a shining bastion of hope at the moment, so he kept his lips shut and eyes open as the invisibility settled along his skin.

Girls were using staves and doing drills in the courtyard, this time in identical red dresses. These were older girls, bodies growing round and plump as they matured. Loki didn't think they were the same group he had seen before, but possibly could be; they were fewer in number, harder edged and had better blank faces. One of them had vivid red hair and startling green eyes, and she seemed to shiver when he passed. Was she sensitive to magic?

Wandering about the complex, he saw the same pinched-face older woman with a different group of young girls. These were definitely not the girls he had seen before. Just how many groups were they training? In this group, the best student seemed to be a blonde named Yelena, whose eyes shone with pride at every compliment paid to her.

What was this place?

In a different area were older girls, women really. Handlers tested various things, and Loki didn't care to stay and observe. He had no interest in seeing how the women handled pain tolerance, being drugged, being beaten without making a sound, seducing targets while being observed, torturing targets to extract desired information that had been planted there for retrieval. His interest was drawn to one handler moving swiftly down into the bowels of the complex, lips pressed tight into an unhappy line. Oh, that would have to be interesting, yes?

He used a keycard and passcode to enter a separate laboratory area. There were girls strapped into chairs, eyes taped open as they had to watch screens while drugs were administered. That was boring and didn't interest Loki at all. It didn't interest the handler either, as he progressed through that hall and into the next. He waited expectantly when he saw a group of white coated men around an upright tube with a circular window in it, frost along the inside of the glass. Not one of them seemed to register his presence.

"Well?" the man asked them impatiently. "Is he going to be ready on time?"

"Things proceed, Comrade," one of the coated men replied, a deferent edge to his voice. "The Asset will be ready on schedule. Any particular instructions required?"

"I forwarded the proper protocols to Breslin."

The man in the white coat frowned at the handler. "I am unaware of this agent."

"He's being brought in to oversee the final selection of the Black Widow from the current class," the handler said. Apparently this man was more important than Loki had thought.

Shifting focus from the grandstanding handler and kowtowing scientist, Loki shifted back to the tube. He couldn't really see through the frost on the glass, and was suddenly annoyed by the scurrying people around him. At least none have bumped into his invisible form yet; the spell created a subtle field that living beings naturally avoided even though there was nothing that they could see. If he wanted to see inside the tube, he would have to force it open or wait for whatever protocols the handler was talking about to be used.

Loki had never claimed to be patient.

Forcing open the tube, it looked as if the locking mechanism had simply failed and released. Inside the tube was a man with scraggly dark hair, layered black clothing with frost over it, and his entire left arm was made of metal. Hm. That was new.

The scientists scurried and scrambled, afraid that the Asset would die if the proper protocol wasn't put into place. Frowning with impatience, Loki traced a healing rune onto the man's chest and then forehead, then breathed life into them. The runes flared with the telltale _frisson_ he associated with magic, and then the Asset took a heaving breath. His eyes were wild and frightened when they snapped open, his mouth open wide in a silent scream. His hands clenched into fists; he was strapped into place and afraid, a blank slate inside a body that was apparently locked away when these people had no further use for him.

Feeling almost sorry for the Asset, Loki traced a memory rune onto his forehead. "You'll only remember the important things. They can't take that from you, no matter how hard they try," he told the trembling, whimpering man. As the spell sank into him, the Asset's tension eased. His eyes fluttered every which way, not quite registering Loki, and the handler that Loki had followed into the lab approached. He looked upset, and Loki had to suppress a snicker. The man's discomfort brought him joy. How wonderful, to make such a minor change while unseen, and the trick caused this kind of distress.

"Check and see what survived. They should have reset everything before the last freeze. If they didn't, wipe him," the handler ordered the scientists. They all scraped and bowed, and one of them started moving toward a machine in the corner.

Whispering with the strength of the _seidr_ behind his voice, Loki curled his lips in amusement. "Your check came up empty. Everything was reset." He didn't know if that was true or not, and it didn't matter to him. But the foolish mortals all absorbed the suggestion, and then went about their business to continue the resuscitation and indoctrination of the Asset. It caused him pain, which none of them cared about, and terrified him before the anguish caused his eyes to glaze over.

Pain didn't ensure loyalty. Pain ensured eventual disobedience and resentment. Loki knew full well how that worked. Someday the Asset would kill these people, and Loki would laugh at their pitiful pleas for mercy. What did any of the Realms care for mercy on an individual? What did Yggdrasil care about one man or one woman? They didn't, of course, and Loki was well aware of the capricious nature of the universe. He had put forth more energy into studying the _seidr_ and _spá_ in the past year, and was still rather shaky on _galdr_ and runic magicks. Still, it was more skill than any in this pathetic realm had.

Hm. Perhaps he could rule this sad little complex. The Asset could be his to command. The girls would be spared from these useless drills and tortures, and Loki was certain that the entire complex could be razed to the ground with the awful handlers inside of it. No one would miss them, surely. He didn't know what to do with the girls yet, but surely he could come up with something given enough time. Perhaps amusement for the better warriors on Asgard? And in providing such girls, the jarls would be beholden to Loki, loyal to his House and less likely to hurl insults at him.

But he was getting ahead of himself. He would have to rule this place first. Luckily, that was bound to be an easy task, particularly if he let his magic augment his natural charm.

First things first. Loki returned to Asgard and ignored the queries about where he had been. It had only been an hour on Asgard, apparently, so it was a reasonable thing to ignore the Warriors Three and Sif. Thor was too busy boasting of this duel and winning it. "He was wounded already," Loki finally snapped, rising to his feet. "Hardly a thrilling challenge."

Thor didn't seem to understand why Loki was so irritated. "Yes, but it was still good combat."

"I will leave you to your reminisces," he said, leaving the gathering hall. His study was crammed full of books, scrolls and various objects his mother had given him to help him focus. Thor hated the room, and never accompanied him there if he could help it. There was little in this library about Midgard, backward and primitive place that it was, and Loki didn't care to share his observations with others. He was searching for more illusion spells, ones that could be layered and shifted more easily, that perhaps wouldn't leave any shimmer of magic behind.

"You are in fine form today," Frigga said from the doorway, an amused curl to her lip. "You best Thor in the practice arena, defend his honor and now study most diligently. Such a good brother you are."

Loki couldn't tell if Frigga was being honest or needling him. He decided to take it at face value for the moment, and merely nodded at her. "I do try."

"I know," she replied brightly, coming into his study. "Mmmm. I hadn't set reading on this subject," she commented, seeing the scrolls in his hands. "Idle curiosity, or some boyish prank that I eventually will have to take you to task for?"

He managed not to roll his eyes. "Do I not simply collect knowledge for its own sake?" he asked, a little edge to his voice.

"You do. But forgive me if I find it a little suspicious that you do so after your brother seems to ignore the care you give him."

"Seems to?" Loki snapped before he meant to. He let out a frustrated breath and put the scroll down. "No, Mother, I was not going to enact some prank. Though now that you mention it..."

Frigga laughed and drew him in for a hug. "Oh, Loki, don't tease. It will get better."

"He doesn't value what I do," Loki murmured.

"No. But if he does eventually take the throne, who will advise him?"

Loki sighed. "Someday, he will take a wife, and she will take on that role."

"But you are clever, and with all the knowledge a prince possesses. You know how much Thor values your wisdom."

"When it's convenient."

By her sigh, Loki knew that she didn't like the surly complaint. "But it is the truth," she allowed after a moment. "Because he still has rash and reckless moments, and he cannot always plan too far ahead. He's young yet, Loki. Be patient."

"It's difficult."

"You're his brother." Frigga pushed a tendril of hair from his temple, a fond smile on her face as she looked at him. "He loves you, even if he doesn't always understand you. His desires are different from yours." Her smile widened a fraction. "Come. If you are interested in complex illusion spells, why don't we go to my library? I have a number of scrolls I was waiting on, until I thought your skill level was appropriate."

Loki's eyes shone with hunger for knowledge, and he eagerly followed her to the library of scrolls, tomes and artifacts in Frigga's care. There were a number of other practitioners of the sacred arts, but Frigga was his primary teacher. She enjoyed passing on her craft just as much as he enjoyed learning for its own sake, and he spent the next several weeks perfecting the complicated illusion spells, so that he barely had to exert any effort at all in the casting. That pleased them both greatly, and Loki was able to accept the stumbling apology Thor gave him for not realizing that his honor had even been maligned until Loki took care of it. That was all Frigga's doing, of course, but Thor's regret was genuine. He really did hate it when the two were at odds. It was good that they usually weren't, though it still rankled when Loki's efforts were not as appreciated as other warriors'.

It was perhaps another month before he remembered the facility on Midgard, and told Thor over breakfast that he planned on doing some traveling on his own. Thor looked eager to come with him, but Loki immediately added "It's to practice my craft and meditate." He had to suppress a smirk at the way Thor's expression faltered and he shrugged instead. "Another time, perhaps, we can travel to one of the realms."

Thor's expression brightened. "Yes, of course. I could always ask Heimdall to let us go to Vanaheim. It's still a safe and prosperous realm. Father will not disapprove."

"Exactly. I'm not sure how long it will take me to complete my studies," Loki told him, as he still hadn't figured out exactly how the differences in time between their realms worked. Perhaps it was a function of walking along Yggdrasil? That was certainly a question he could ponder while walking on the hidden path.

When he did finally emerge in Midgard, it was summer. Loki recognized the passage of more time; there was a green eyed redhead training with the Asset at the facility, her body fully mature and agile as they fought. She was graceful, movements more like a dance than the deadly sparring that it was. Loki's mouth went dry at the sight suddenly. This was a woman now, not a girl that was far too observant for his liking. Now that the Asset wasn't strapped down and terrified, Loki could see that he was another deadly pawn for these handlers. He didn't have the woman's grace, but there was power in his movement. That carried an allure all its own, one that Loki didn't stop to question.

This place was his. Those two were his. It was as simple as that.

Layering on the illusion spells he had perfected, he moved through the hallways looking like one of the older handlers. There had to be records of some kind, and he was determined to find them and see what exactly was going on.

Finding them was easier than he had thought it would be. The clerk fell all over herself to give him everything he asked for, and stayed just outside the door so that she could fetch him anything else he might need. Loki largely ignored her, focusing on the files that the Red Room facility had collected on all of their students.

The Black Widow program was designed to create female spies; the Wolf Spider companion program had been a dismal failure, the boys killing each other for sport or going insane in the process of getting their augmentations. As a result, the girls weren't given any augmentations, and the focus was on honing innate skills, teaching multiple knowledges useful to spycraft, extensive conditioning, trigger words, auditory cues, manipulating loyalties. The prior crops of students had all been very successful, though the nature of the program meant there was only ever one successful Black Widow at any given time. While there were hundreds of girls brought to the program, they were ranked in tiers. Lower tiers could never hope to become a Black Widow, and were instead used as examples for higher tiers to practice on. The girls all had an assigned number as well as their name, though most of the handlers apparently didn't believe in referring to them by names.

The current star of the program was Natalia Alianovna Romanova, the most talented student within her class. As such, she was designated the one to train with the Asset, also referred to as the Winter Soldier in some documents. He was on loan from another organization, and was also meant to test Natalia's resilience and ability to fight even at difficult odds. In their first match, the Asset had broken her wrist, but she had completed the fight despite it. She had continued to fight as the wrist healed, and seemed to understand that it would be a target. As a result, she made sure to be faster and dart out of reach of his arm or weapons. It was noted that she often had fairly acrobatic moves, or distracted others with contortions of her body.

Loki smiled a little. Clever girl. She definitely would be his, not given to some clueless warrior who wouldn't be able to appreciate such a style.

There were a handful of gifted girls in younger classes, and they haven't started the systematic elimination of students in the younger classes yet. Natalia had two other girls in her class left, though it looked as though a final test would be scheduled soon. Handlers felt Natalia would be able to easily kill them both, especially given how well she was doing in her training sessions with the Asset. _So dedicated to the craft,_ one note read. _Missions done with the Asset are exemplary, and both behave in the manner expected of them._

Hm. What did that mean?

Thinking back over the sparring he had seen, it didn't seem to be untoward in any way. They moved fluidly, cordial teacher and attentive student, looking similar in age and ability. It seemed as though they knew each other fairly well, and could anticipate each others' moves.

The two of them had been training for several months, including missions in the field at his request, according to records. Loki's smile took on a sly edge. Were the handlers really this stupid? Or did they allow it because of the impressive completion rate for the assignments? There was a notation that Natalia would eventually be sent to test the loyalty of Alexei Alanovich Shostakov, a test pilot. She would be his wife, and see how well he guarded the secrets he was charged to keep.

Oh, no. That was silly and would be beneath her. Just from what he had seen so far, she was a brilliant and beautiful assassin, deceptively delicate and endlessly lethal. A pilot, no matter how special to the Russian government, didn't deserve her. She was a finely honed knife, not a blunt instrument, and she had to be used in better ways.

Loki had always adored knives.

It was absurdly easy for him to track down the individuals that ferreted out potential missions for the students. His illusions held, so Loki had them change the details for a handful of upcoming missions. Alexei Alanovich Shostakov's future bride would be one of Natalia's classmates, not her. Natalia was earmarked for a special mission that Loki chose not to elaborate on. Though they were confused, none dared to countermand his new order. They didn't realize that he didn't care about Russia or her interests. He didn't care about the fall of the Communist regime or what would happen to the people. The organization that they had gotten the Asset from didn't concern him either; a spell could ferret them out and render them useless. In fact, while he had it in mind, he should probably do just that.

The Red Room would implode over time if there was no attention or directive given to it. He supposed he could try to rule this realm and prove to his parents how clever he really was. That was a chore, though. Rule. Carrying on and caring about innumerable masses, faceless hordes that would be needy creatures relying on him for consistency. Where was the challenge in that? Thor could have that. He didn't want it. He didn't care for the daily chores involved in the successful rule of a realm, only in conquering it. That was where the meticulous planning would be useful, where his mind would be the sharpest.

He could take over the underworld on this realm. Perhaps it would be amusing, and he could offer up this realm's entertainments for the privileged of Asgard. Many of those at court were easily bored and looking for the latest thrill.

That sounded appropriate. It should be diverting enough to hold his interest for more than a moment, and still give him time to study magic and play with his new toys.

When Natalia and the Asset went on a mission together, they scouted the area and discussed the best way to get to the target. They also fucked desperately in the safe house, quiet but intense and messy, hands unable to get clothing off fast enough. Loki had followed them, cloaked in his invisibility spell, and enjoyed watching the play of their bodies over each other. If they could be his in the same way? Oh, his body was already starting to sing with the possibility of it.

Not wanting to tip his hand too soon, Loki met with Natalia while she was dressed as the target's favorite type of girl to pick up at the bar. "If you don't mind," she told him, her husky voice in heavily accented Russian meant to imply she was originally German, "I'm waiting for someone."

"Yes. That's me," Loki told her with a charming smile. "Your skills are impeccable," he purred, dropping his hand over hers. "And I want them serving my interests."

Her eyes were flinty and cold. Before she could draw herself back and away from him, Loki traced a stillness rune on her hand. She felt the tingle of magic settle over her arm, and her eyes whipped from her hand to his face. He was patient, watching how she reacted.

"You know who I am."

"I've known a long time," Loki replied with an incline of his head. "And those imbeciles have no idea what your true potential can be."

"And you do?" she scoffed. "When you've never been my handler before?"

"I don't need to have been." He laughed at her incredulous expression. "I'm better than the pathetic ones that already exist." Loki leaned in close, lips stretched into a smile that maybe was sincere, maybe was intimidating. "You would do better working for me."

Natalia looked away, her bright red hair falling to her shoulder in perfectly coiled waves. "You don't know what you want."

"I want you. I want the Asset. The rest of the Red Room idiots can burn for all I care."

She gasped, eyes fever bright as she turned back to stare at him. "I am loyal," she insisted.

"Of course you are," Loki sneered. "But the moment they threaten to kill you, you won't be."

"I work for the glory of my country," she hissed. "Do you understand such things?"

"Of course." Loki let his fingers trail down her spine. "Do you really think they'll let you keep him? That they won't wipe his mind clean and erase you from it?" He felt her go unnaturally still with his words, though her facial features hadn't changed. She was weighing her options, and inclined her head slightly. "There are so many organizations out there, and they bore me with how little imagination they really have. Drugs, human trafficking, money laundering... It's all boring. Hardly creative at all."

"Did you want to rule a country?"

"Conquering is appropriate," Loki said, stroking the column of her spine and letting his lips hover near her ear. "I am a prince, after all. But the day to day mechanics would bore me."

"Unless I do it. Or the Asset."

"You could," Loki agreed. He took her earlobe into his mouth and tugged gently. Her breath caught, but he couldn't tell if it was her training kicking in or if she was genuinely intrigued by his attentions. He had one hand on her spine and let the other settle onto her thigh. "Do you want the job, Natalia? Do you want to stop wondering when they'll kill you?"

"It won't be today."

"No. But eventually. You know how they are. You're worth something if you remain useful."

"How are you different?" she challenged him. "What will you do if I am no longer useful?"

"Find you a home," Loki replied in an offhand manner. It really didn't matter where she was on this realm.

Her eyes slid sideways and he knew he had hooked her in. She was a survivor above all else, and she knew just how dangerous the Red Room was. "The Asset will follow me, I think."

Loki took her chin in his hand and tilted it up for a kiss. "I'm sure he will. He's infatuated. As am I. Pick a country, my Natalia, and we'll set about ruling it."

There was something hard edged in her gaze. "Take down the Red Room first."

He grinned, slow and almost sinister as he considered her words. "Done."

They sealed the bargain with a kiss.

***  
***


	2. Spread Out Against The Sky

"You were there when I was a girl," Natalia said as they left the bar. Her eyes were sharp and clear, no hint of a question.

"What are you talking about?"

"There was an odd visit from Comrade Bezukhov one night during testing when I was a girl. He canceled the test he ordered the day before, and wasn't moving the same way he normally does."

Loki held out his arm in a gallant gesture. Natalia really was a tiny creature, and he didn't know if it was because of her deprivation as a small child or if she was truly destined to be that short. It didn't matter; that brought out almost protective instincts in him. The Red Room wouldn't have her back. She was _his._

"How were you there as Comrade Bezokhov?" she asked when he remained silent.

"Do you believe in magic?"

She actually seemed to ponder that, making him want to laugh in delight. Such an inquisitive woman she was, and all his. "I think there are a great many things that exist that I wasn't trained for," she said finally.

"You still think I'm testing you, don't you?"

"Wouldn't you?"

Now Loki laughed outright, pulling her into an alley. It was out of sight of the Asset's crosshairs, and would likely drive him out of his mind with worry. Loki pressed Natalia against the wall, a hand around her throat. It was loose, not as warning, but to keep himself from devouring her mouth after the delicate taste he'd gotten. "I'm not one of your middling handlers, Natalia," he purred, letting a glamour settle on top of his skin. Her eyes widened fractionally before she reined in the reaction; it had to be real, then. "I am something very different."

"Why have you chosen to reveal yourself to me?"

"You're the best. Why shouldn't I have the best things?" Loki asked, lips curling in a mocking smile. "That's how they see you two, you know. Things. Objects to move around and play pretend with. You're not a person, not a real creature with feelings and thoughts and wants and needs. Whatever you might want doesn't even occur to them. They were going to send you to Shostakov, have him marry and bed your persona, and have you test him in subtle ways. A mission beneath your skill level."

"And what do you propose I do for you, then?" Natalia asked, a slight challenge in her tone.

He gave in to his impulse and kissed her, mouth open over hers, tongue sliding across the seam of her lips. She didn't bother to move the hand at her throat, and simply responded to the kiss that he gave her. "I could tell you to try to seduce me," Loki murmured against her lips. "But you've been trained to do that. You would determine what I like best and become that. A cipher, nothing more than smoke and mirrors, a malleable thing like magic itself."

"So what do you want me to be?" she asked quietly.

"You. I want your loyalty, your mind, your heart, your body, your soul. All of you."

"There are pieces you will never touch."

Loki laughed. "If they belong to me, I won't have to."

Natalia gently pushed at his shoulders and he allowed it, letting her searching gaze rake over his face for a moment. "I want my mind," she said fiercely, eyes flashing. "I _need_ to have my mind my own." It made him think of those girls strapped down and fed all sorts of drugs and having to watch videos.

"What I meant," Loki said, moving his hand from her throat to caress her cheek, "is that you use your intellect to help me. That your clever mind will solve problems for me. That you will aid me in all things. I don't intend to warp your memories or leave you a drooling idiot. Where's the fun in that?"

She bit her lip, and the hint of vulnerability made him want to kiss her. Hell, he wanted fuck her right there against the wall and make her precious Asset watch. He was aching, and it made him realize it had been quite some time since he had visited the palace brothel.

"I will help you," she said slowly, her luscious lips pursing slightly, "because you ask it of me. Because you imply I have a choice."

"Of course you do. You could always go back to _them."_

There was striking out on her own, but he didn't think the Red Room would let her. For her to be free, Loki would have to raze it to the ground.

"That's not a choice I wish to take." She bit her lip again, and Loki wondered if it was genuine or not. Given her training, it could be impossible for him to tell. "What kind of man are you?" she asked quietly. "Ivan Petrovich sometimes thought of himself as my father, though no father would put his child through this, surely. You don't think of yourself that way. So what do you see yourself as?"

"Bored," Loki murmured. "In need of something to do, somewhere to be."

"You need to matter to someone. To be looked up to, but without having to constantly prove that you're worthy of it. That's why you don't like the day to day necessities of rule."

Ah, too perceptive by far. "I suppose," he replied with a shrug.

"You may call me Natasha." He vaguely understood it as important, and guessed it was a pet name only close associates would call her. 

"Natasha," he murmured before kissing her again, and he could feel the difference in her response. She had been guarded before, and was more open to him now. Was this the real Natasha? Or was it the reckless abandon she'd had with the Asset?

Only one way to find out.

He created a portal to the room where the Asset had been waiting for Natasha; he was pacing, agitated when she went missing. He was startled, but froze when Loki held up a hand and subvocalized the trigger word he had heard one of the Asset's handlers talk about. As promised, it kept him alert but locked in place and unable to move. "She's safe. You're safe. Frozen, but conscious, aware, and will be able to move again in a few minutes. When I am ready, I will return to discuss a bargain with you." Loki smiled at the Asset, slow and sinuous. "I wager it will be more than fair, given how little they value your individuality."

With a nod at the Asset, he opened another portal and led Natasha through it. Her eyes lingered on the Asset, and again Loki wondered how her handlers missed it. Were they really that clueless and incompetent? Or were they simply biding their time until it was worth their while to punish them both for the transgressions?

No matter. They belonged to him. The Red Room couldn't have them, not now and not ever again. Loki didn't like sharing when it was something important like this.

This portal led to a small pocket dimension. He had created it after reading of such things in Frigga's library, and she had all but encouraged such things due to its complexity. "Some places that don't exist really should," is how she had discussed the topic when the theory came up in their discussion. It had taken him about three years to create the dimension, then make it large enough to be a small sized suite of rooms. He had then anchored it to a branch of Yggdrasil, using the power of the World Tree to keep it going even after he left it. That allowed him to store belongings in it and make it a safe place to retreat to if the palace wasn't enough. There were times he craved solitude; with the innumerable servants, courtiers and nobles floating about the palace halls, it was often hard to truly be alone. Here, he was.

Natasha looked about the area, eyes taking in the details. The walls were glittering ice, the furniture elaborately wrought in silver or platinum, furs and throw rugs everywhere. Taper candles and a roaring fire threw off light, and there were shelves with leather bound books, scrolls and ornate boxes. A sumptuous lacquered desk to the side of the massive room held ink pots and quills, rolled scrolls and parchment, more stacks of books. Doorways to the left of their entry point led to a bathroom and bedroom, both exquisitely done.

"This is your home," Natasha murmured, looking at Loki. Her voice was soft, a sense of wonder in it. "You brought me to your safe place."

Loki reached out and ran his fingers along the curve of her cheek. Natasha remained very still, her gaze level as he touched her. "Yes, I did. Do you feel safe here?"

Her eyes locked onto his. "I can be, I'm sure."

"But you're not quite sure of me yet."

"You want to rule. I can believe that. You want me to help you. I probably can. But here..."

"What do you wish to happen here?"

"The opportunity to be more than a nameless tool," Natasha murmured. It was possibly the most honest thing she said to him.

"Oh, I see many opportunities," he murmured, just before he bent his head down to kiss her roughly. "I think you will enjoy this particular opportunity," Loki murmured. 

"Is this what you want from me?" Natasha murmured, holding onto his arms for balance.

"With you," he corrected. "One of the many ways I can think of for us to amuse each other."

"Is that what this is?"

Loki heard her carefully measured voice and pulled back, frowning. "Is this unwelcome attention, Natasha?" he asked. "I won't be angry with you if it is."

"So this is my choice?" she asked, still in that carefully measured voice.

"In this, you will always have a choice. I call you mine, and want you to consider yourself mine in turn. But I say that not because I expect your body at all times. I don't expect you to seduce me for your safety. I suggest this because I think we can satisfy our needs together. We all have needs, dear one," Loki replied, a sad smile on his face as understanding seemed to dawn in her eyes. "Some we can meet, some we cannot. Some things we can never have."

"This is my choice. As is working with you and not with the superiors I've known."

"Yes."

Natasha softened against him, molding her body to his and hooking a leg around him. "Then we can see if this would be of mutual satisfaction, yes?"

"Have you ever had the opportunity to be truly pleasured properly?" He let his lips curl in a sensual smile that usually got the noble ladies of Asgard panting. "To be treasured for your beauty and grace? Not as an operative, not for seduction, not for a test. But for yourself, what _you_ enjoy, what _you_ want in being bedded?"

Her lips parted enticingly as she shook her head. "No," she murmured.

And this would be how he seduced her to his side. Not with lies or trickery or flattery, but with _choice_ and the freedom to choose. She would choose him if he gave her that illusion, if he let her think he ever intended any different for her.

"Let me show you what it is to be treasured, then," he said softly, bending his head down to kiss her. "Let me show you what it is your handlers feared, why they never wanted to let you know what was truly out there in the world." Her lips parted as he kissed her. Loki's tongue darted into her mouth immediately, probing at the recesses of her mouth and licking at her teeth. To his joy, she responded in kind, inherently graceful and deadly, no doubt born of her training and not her true desire. Yet. She would learn.

He could be generous when pleased, and right now she was pleasing him very much.

Loki whispered a spell against her mouth that made her clothing dissolve into nothing. He grinned at her gasp of surprise, elicited before she could suppress it. Everything he was doing was startling, overriding the tight control her handlers had trained into her. Oh, it was still there, but she didn't have any past programming to fall back on for this situation. He would see the true responses, know what her soul was truly made of. He already had the feeling that he would like what he saw, but he wanted to know and be sure.

He licked his fingers before reaching down and sliding them through her folds, then inside of her. Natasha clung to him, eyes wide and mouth parted in a gasp as she stared at him. "Did they prepare you, these teachers of yours?" She shook her head, not speaking as she gasped again when he curled his fingers enticingly. "Did they consider your sensibilities at all?" Loki asked, already knowing the answer.

"I was trained. I was conditioned. I was a tool for Mother Russia," she gasped. He growled, a low contented sound, and worked his fingers in and out of her.

"You are no tool. A fine instrument, if you must be compared to something," Loki told her, voice low and intimate. His lips stretched into a smile when Natasha cupped his face in her hands, an intense look in her eyes. "Would you play me in turn?"

She took the words as a challenge, her smile answering his. "Would it be play?"

"Play or not at all," Loki returned, bringing his mouth back to hers. "I would never force you, dear Natasha." He rubbed her clit with his thumb, knowing this was playing dirty but not caring in the least. "I am not the creatures you are familiar with."

"I see that," she said, pulling at his clothes and deftly moving them aside until her fingers met skin. Clever, just as he liked. "Then let's play."

Her kiss was possessive now, not shy in the slightest. Her nails dug into his sides when his fingers sped up, when he brought her to the peak of pleasure and pushed her over the edge. It was wonderful to see the flush in her cheeks, the way her eyes lit up. Ah, she hadn't been treated with any kindness, and the training had likely been clinical in nature. How to seduce and appear to be seduced. Idiots. Loyalty born of fear was easily broken.

Loki pulled his fingers from her and licked the taste of her off of them, then inclined his head toward the bedroom. His clothes disappeared along the way, and he found himself smiling as she crawled up onto his bed, a massive four poster that took up much of the bedroom. The sheets and fur coverings were luxurious, a sensual feast for his sensitive skin, and the sight of her on top of them made him want to bed her right there and then.

Natasha turned and looked over her shoulder at him, still on all fours, and let her lips curl in a sensual invitation. "Come, my lord," she purred.

"I like the sound of that."

"I thought you might," she replied, twisting so he could see the rise of her breasts as well as the curve of her ass. He ran his hand down the length of her spine, until he could cup that bottom for himself. "You seem that kind."

"Considering I like rule?"

"A would be king?"

Something in Loki's chest twisted at the sound of that. "Nay, I'm but a second son. Kingship is not my due, only advisory status."

Her head tilted to the side. "You're serious."

"Very much so," Loki murmured, reaching for her and turning her so that she fell onto her back on his bed. "I would be expected to keep this as mere dalliance, and to return to my duties, take my place behind the throne."

"But you won't," Natasha murmured as he lavished her breasts with kisses.

"I have my own plans in mind," he replied, moving down to kiss her belly, then place his mouth at the very center of her. Loki didn't care that she gasped and pulled at his hair. He licked into her, tongue deep inside her slit or pressed to her clit, the taste of her like heady wine. It was a pleasure to reduce her to this, to have her writhing beneath his mouth as he licked at her sensitive nub, as he lapped at her wetness. He was hard, aching to press into her, but he first planned to bring her to another peak of pleasure this way, get her slick and aching, begging for him to take her repeatedly. Perhaps he would even lace himself with magic, keep himself hard and able to bring her even more pleasure.

This time he didn't, and brought his mouth away from her after she cried out when she came. Her limbs splayed to the side, she was a vision of decadent perfection. Oh yes, she was very much the pinnacle of the Red Room's program, but Loki saw her as so much more than that. She was a finely honed blade, crafted to be beautiful and deadly if used properly.

He could take over any country on this pathetic realm, any organization, any group that thought to stand up in his way. He could even use her skills to cement his position in court on Asgard, if he ever truly thought his place would be threatened. So many possibilities, the thought of it was endless and dizzying and wonderful.

Sliding his cock into her wet heat, Loki grinned down at Natasha. She raked her nails across his chest and hips, pulling him in further. "You like it rough, little one?" he asked, amused.

"I want this," she moaned. "I need this now."

"I'm not going anywhere," he promised. "I can take my time with you. No need to rush." Though she tried to shift her hips and squeeze her inner muscles around his cock, Loki laughed in delight and moved slowly, agonizingly slowly, introducing the concept of lovemaking and not just fucking. Nothing wrong with that either, but it was all she knew from her frenzied couplings with the Asset. The thought of teaching her this, of it being new and as a result of his attention, was heady and exhilarating.

Holding her hands down above her head, Loki moved with deliberate intent, lips curled in a knowing smile at her whine of frustration. "Patience, Natasha," she purred. "Surely they told you there is no need to rush things."

"I want this," she whimpered, looking up at him with a desperate expression. "I want."

"Yes, you do. But there are no prying eyes here, no need to hurry. No one will hurt you ever again. I promise you." Whatever she saw in his expression must have convinced her, because she nodded and relaxed into his bed. Closing her eyes, Natasha let herself get caught up in the sensation of the fur at her back, his hand over her wrists, his cock thick inside her, his other hand cupping her breast and flicking the nipple with his fingers. Loki watched her closely, the hitch and rise of her chest as she gasped for breath, as she swallowed moans and fractured pieces of sentences asking him for more, more, more.

Her body tightened around him when she came, and he couldn't hold back any longer. He spilled into her, relaxed and grinning down at her. For all of her well-honed reflexes and training, Loki could tell she hadn't feigned her response. She laid beneath him, sated, smiling sensually. Eyes hooded in satisfaction, Natasha looked up at him, languor in her limbs and a pleased expression on her face. "There is likely something to this."

"So you like this, hm?" he asked, smiling smugly at her.

She pushed him over onto his back and straddled his waist, holding his wrists down against the bed. Grinning in amusement, she slid her sticky, slippery wetness against his softening cock, his seed smearing between their bodies. "I can be persuaded. And perhaps you'll let me persuade you to do things my way. To hold _you_ down and take what I want from you. To make it so you can't remember your name or why we're challenging each other this way."

Loki laughed, delighted. "Yes, dear Natasha. Show me what you want to do. Show me what you like." His smile was a sharp, edged thing, full of teeth and quiet menace. The subtle display didn't cool her ardor in the slightest, something he appreciated. The last time he had visited the palace brothel, he had to curb the darker impulses he had to bind the girl and use her roughly to satisfy himself. With Natasha, he thought she would enjoy such a thing. And she might likely make him enjoy similar treatment.

As it was, she had to improvise with whatever leftover ties and laces from abandoned bits of clothing that no longer fit him. His boyhood leftovers possibly would fit her, breeches clinging to the round backside, to the shape of thigh and calf. Even imagining it brought the first stirrings of desire back to him; Asgardian women hid the shape of their bodies among folds of dresses, drapes and robes. It was too intimate a sight, reserved for bedrooms for most ladies, and for Sif on the battlefield.

Natasha tied him to the bed and covered his eyes with a length of hose, then moved with lips and mouth and hands, occasional sweeps of tongue and even a scrape of teeth once or twice. He was so sensitive to her touch, to the way she licked his soft cock and abdomen clean, the way she mouthed his balls and licked at his thighs reverently, the way she hummed as if it was a pleasant task she couldn't wait to continue. Loki could cheat with magic, could make it so that he could claim her again, more thoroughly than before. But this was the result of the theoretical teachings they had given her, and to have her enjoy the lessons given was a wonderful experience. He groaned as her mouth closed over his cock, licking and sucking, her hands kneading his balls and holding his cock steady. When he was hard enough, she pulled her mouth away and mounted him, her hands at his chest, scratching at his flat nipples lightly.

She continued even after he came, chasing her own pleasure, and it was an unbearably intense feeling to have her do this. By the Tree, she was exquisite.

Afterward, he broke free of her knots and pulled her down to the bed beneath him. "You could have done that at any time?" she gasped, but it wasn't quite fear in her voice. No, she was aroused; she liked the thought of his strength, that he could overpower her.

Loki only grinned devilishly at him. "You're mine, Natalia Alianovna Romanova, and of course I will do as I wish with you."

Her smile was an invitation, so he kissed her thoroughly. Her hands ran through his hair, holding him close, a leg hooked around his waist to keep their bodies entwined. "And I do as I wish with you, don't I?" she purred against his mouth.

"If you can."

"Then I'll put my imagination to the task and find all new ways to bring you to your knees."

"Do your worst, Natasha," he urged her, grinning. "But first, our business on Midgard isn't done yet." He pulled away from her, nearly laughing at her confused expression. "We shall dress and conclude the agreement we were talking about."

The Asset was still frozen in place when Loki opened a portal into his hotel room. Natasha ran to the Asset, casting an accusing glance at Loki. "Were they only pretty words, then? You kept him here to suffer while we dally?"

Loki quirked his lips at her; apparently she was constantly absorbing speech patterns from those around her. The natural ability to mimic allowed her to blend and appear as though she belonged. "No time passed here, Natasha. I made sure of it." With a wave of his hand in the face of her disbelief, the spell on the Asset fell.

He looked at Natasha, sliding an arm around her waist and ignoring the Asset's glare. "We need to come to an understanding, you and I," Loki told the Asset. "We both care about her, about the strength of your skills and completing missions you set out to do."

The words appeared to be contemplated at least, so Loki forged on. "Your current masters care nothing for your wellbeing. Or hers. Not past what they can have you do for them. They erased your memory and reshuffled hers like so much trash, and I propose a change of leadership."

"You control the Red Room?" the Asset asked dubiously. "That would only help Natalia. I am only on loan from Hydra."

Shrugging, Loki disinterestedly replied "Then they will be eliminated."

"It's not that easy. Their true identities are hidden," the Asset told him. "I don't know who they all are. They'll rebuild once it's safe to. They've done it before."

"You said it in jest," Loki told him slowly, "but if we _did_ eliminate the current leaders of the Red Room, destroyed Hydra completely..." He smiled, an uneasy and almost manic grin to most people observing. These two weren't fazed by it in the least. _"We_ can rule it. Why rule a country when we can take over the entire organization and bring the world to its knees?"

Though they both seemed rather doubtful, they didn't disagree. Loki opened a portal from the hotel room to the Red Room offices. It was easy to lock the doors with a minor spell, trapping the idiot officials inside. With a magnanimous wave of his hands, he smiled at Natasha and the Asset with a fair bit of menace. "Why don't we find out what your name is," he said. "I'm sure they know who you were before they got hold of you." The menace in his expression deepened as he looked over the cowering handlers. "Use whatever means you feel is necessary."

The two of them were utterly glorious in their ruthlessness. The Asset and Natasha worked in tandem, quickly, securing the men in the room. Most had started screeching in terror when they realized the room was locked and Loki wasn't going to help them escape. He gave Natasha one of the hidden blades from his formal armor, and smiled benignly when her eyes lit up. A simple gift to give, yet it clearly told her how much she was trusted. There was no need to give the Asset any weapons, when all of his were still strapped to his body, ready to be used.

Stepping back when she took it, Loki grandly swept his arms around the room. "Do what you will, my dears," Loki told them magnanimously.

The Asset narrowed his eyes at Loki. "You're not going to give us instructions?"

"Why? You know what to do," Loki replied with a shrug. "I don't care how it gets done as long as we get what we need. I have no interest in micromanaging you."

Natasha and the Asset had similarly eerie smiles, then set to work. It didn't bother them in the slightest that Loki watched them, assessing their skills. It was likely what all handlers and guards did anyway. He watched as Natasha used the blade to nick at nerves and arteries, inflicting the greatest amount of pain with the least lethality until her victim was sobbing and begging to be let go, spilling secrets like a waterfall. The Asset broke every bone in hands or punched hard enough to shatter ribs. It was watching a scalpel and hammer in action. These stupid men never dreamed that their tools could ever turn on them. Foolish idiots, one and all.

Sitting cross legged beside one bound man, Natasha looked up at Loki. "There are more officers that we need. This one will tell me who we should call, won't you?" she asked sweetly. She sounded like spun sugar, all sickly sweet, though her smile was frightening and the man's chest had already been skinned. Loki's knife was covered in blood, and it was poised at his throat; the threat that his face was next was clear.

With something like pride, Loki called all the handlers that were suggested. He wasn't sure if they were actually needed, or these men didn't want to die alone. It didn't really matter; while they were decimating the leadership of the Red Room and discovering who the Hydra members were, it opened up the organization to their leadership.

The Asset slammed his metal fist into a different man's face, shattering the bones of the orbit and zygomatic arch. Shards of bone were thrust into the soft brain tissue behind it, and the hapless victim collapsed once he pulled back his hand. "Useless trash."

Loki moved to his side and rested a hand on his shoulder. The Asset was glaring down at the pile of men in his part of the room, so much meat mangled and torn. "Did any of them know anything useful, then?"

"Not a single name," the Asset growled.

"Not even yours?" Loki asked, frowning.

"Grigori might have known it," another cowering man muttered, pointing to the pile of dead. "But it's useless now."

Lifting the man by the front of his shirt, Loki fixed him with a bland expression. "I suggest you find out what my friend would like to know," he growled. "Else your death will be exquisitely slow and painful, enough that you would wish he ended it quickly."

That was a statement that terrified the man and garnered respect and the attention of the Asset. It wasn't simply lip service for Natasha's sake, then. Loki truly meant to help him as well, and he wasn't used to such things.

"James Buchanan 'Bucky' Barnes," Loki read as information was brought up on a computer screen. He flicked his gaze to the Asset, then to Natasha. "Does that mean anything to you?"

Both shook their heads, and Loki effortlessly threw the hapless man across the room. They all heard the crack of a spine breaking, and the man collapsed to the floor in a tangle of limbs. He wasn't moving, but none of the three spared him a glance. He wasn't important anymore, and Loki was already moving through the computer system. It was archaic even by Midgard's standards, and agonizingly slow to maneuver. But Loki soon found his way into different archives, and he scanned the information as it scrolled past. Allspeak was useful on the worlds of Yggdrasil, but translation spells he'd used earlier were far more helpful.

Bucky's expression shuttered as he saw some of the data Loki left on the screen for him to read; that drew Natasha's attention out of concern. The three huddled around the screen to look at what Loki had found. A close friend of Captain America, Bucky had been captured and experimented on by Arnim Zola. He and others had been rescued, and he continued to fight until his death during a mission in 1945. Memorials had been erected in his honor, his sisters and mother had gotten his military pension, and his best friend was soon lost in battle himself. Various notes were collected on the tactical skills that Bucky had, further training he underwent, the tests and enhancements he was given. Some of the notations on scanned pages of his files also made mention of other projects they could have been used on.

Natasha pulled away from them and picked up the knife on the table. She looked at the blood and gore smeared on the finely crafted blade, then lifted her head and returned to where she had been standing prior to reading about Bucky Barnes. Unceremoniously, she stabbed the man she had been torturing and walked over to the last one on her side of the room. Her steps were slow, methodical, her expression eerily blank as she walked. Blood dripped from the end of the blade, and the bound man made a soft whimpering noise.

"Comrade," she said, gracefully dropping into a squat. "The medicines we were given, the checkups, the injections. They all were to enhance us, were they not?"

"I don't know," he said, shaking his head.

She stabbed his thigh, not even flinching when he screamed. She merely lifted the knife as she stared him down. "I know who you are, Comrade. _I remember you._ So do not insult us both with these lies. You know full well what we are capable of. What I have done to your comrades will be nothing compared to what may come for you."

"There are more in store," he insisted. "I don't know what they gave you, what they're saving for the winner of your class. It's common knowledge that the Black Widow program includes modifications, but we were never told what was done. Kudrin and Chelintsov don't share their secrets," the man spat.

Without needing to be asked, Loki's fingers flew across the keys of the old computer looking for those two agents of the Red Room as Natasha slit the man's throat and stood. Soon enough, Grigor Ivanov Chelintsov and Lyudmila Antonovna Kudrin were summoned; Chelintsov was one of the men directing the memory reconstruction and enhancements that Loki had seen in the different labs, and Kudrin was apparently involved in bodily alterations. Chelintsov didn't break until Bucky came at him with fists and a tactical knife blade. Kudrin refused to release the passwords on her files even under torture.

Loki wracked his memory for spells that could change Kudrin's mind, but couldn't think of any that he had learned. Did any exist? There had to be something that the _seidr_ could do for that, since it was all about illusion and trickery. Perhaps one of the higher order spells in Frigga's library that she hadn't shared with him yet.

Damn and blast. He wanted to know what Kudrin knew, needed to know if Natasha was safe, or if her body would turn on itself. Maybe he could convince one of the Healers on Asgard to study her with a Soul Forge, but tales might come back to his father that a mere mortal was in Asgard's hallowed halls. Loki wouldn't want to explain why he cared so much for Natasha's survival, why he needed to know she would be all right.

Angry, Natasha stood and let Bucky take over the torture and did her best to try to hack into Kudrin's files. It calmed her, let her fall into a state where emotions held no sway. And when she finally was able to crack the files wide open to see for herself what was done, Bucky simply killed Kudrin and returned to Natasha's side. They looked at the notations for enhancements to Natasha's immune system, muscle strength and bone density. It wasn't quite the same kind of healing that the super soldier serum could do, but it certainly meant she was harder to kill than most humans were.

She wasn't that fragile. Bucky definitely wasn't. Pleased, Loki grabbed Natasha and kissed her, heedless of the blood and gore coating her clothes, hands and arms, the smear of blood across one cheek. For good measure, Loki grasped Bucky by the back of his neck and then kissed him as well. Both belonged to him, after all.

"We have what we want, then," he told them, grinning widely. "This place is ours."

Natasha's smile was slow and sinister, but Bucky's expression remained blank. "Yes, it is," she said, voice low and husky. "And I know what our first missions should be." She turned to Bucky, eyes shining with perfect love. "We eliminate Hydra and make sure you're free."

"Perfect," Loki declared, pulling them both into a tight embrace. "Let's get started right away."

***  
***


	3. The Corners of the Evening

Loki was actually reluctant to return to Asgard. How odd that he would become enamored of these humans. Yes, he'd claimed them as his and they accepted that claim, but the longing he felt was intense. It wasn't just for bedding or to entertain him. He had the urge to keep them close, seated by his hearth, drinking his wine and listening to his favorite tales as he read them aloud. He wanted to share himself with them. Not as a trap or manipulation, but because they would understand and celebrate his darkness, compliment his plans and truly make him feel like a god.

Was this love? He would berate them terribly if they confessed it to him, but he couldn't help but wonder at it.

There were lessons with Frigga to attend to, practice with swords and staves with the palace guard, deportment and music, then geography, language and history. This was meant to fill his day with the learning he would need to assist Thor in leading the realm to continued greatness when Odin no longer ruled. Thor took it as a matter of course and tended to skive off most of his academic lessons, greatly preferring the physical ones. Loki's preferences were the reverse, which meant their strengths complemented each other.

That made him think of Bucky and Natasha. Similar yet different skill sets, different uses. They were hunting down Hydra's agents, discovering names and locations before killing them. Loki wished he could be there working with them instead.

"What troubles you?" Frigga asked gently, resting a hand on Loki's shoulder. It made him realize he had stared at the volume in his hand without actually reading it for some time.

"I wouldn't say _troubled,_ precisely," Loki murmured, putting the book aside. "But I have performed magic not sanctioned, and I wish I could discuss the matter with you freely in order to obtain your wisdom."

Intrigued, Frigga sat down beside Loki in the library and took his discarded book in her hands. "Perhaps we can talk of _theory,_ Loki."

He grinned at her, relieved. "There are walkways Heimdall knows nothing about, alternate ways to travel the paths of Yggdrasil."

Frigga gave him a sharp look. "Tales tell of such dangers, yes."

"Should a practitioner travel them to other realms, they might meet natives to that realm. And miss them when returning to the practitioner's home."

She put the book down and took his hands in hers. "Was there much changed on the other realm?" she asked in concern.

"Considerable," Loki replied. He still wasn't sorry. "Children were being harmed, men and women tortured to further the designs of selfish old men."

"Well," Frigga sighed, understanding his meaning, "I suppose coming to their defense is understandable. It's entirely too difficult to go back and erase the presence of this practitioner now. The _spá_ becomes entangled."

Loki sighed. "Yes. And there is the desire to further entangle them."

She looked at him with something like pity. "A wild world, is it? With savage violence and the need for your guidance?"

"They could certainly use it," Loki agreed.

"Oh, Loki. That's not something you should get involved in."

"Isn't our role to enlighten others? To guide the other realms? Be the shining beacon of light and knowledge?" Loki challenged hotly. "If I do so, if I free those children from torture and abuses, if I show them better paths, give them a purpose..."

"But your place is _here,_ Loki. Not there. Not with people unlike you. You belong with your own kind."

Loki stiffened. For her to dismiss Natasha and Bucky out of hand that way...

"Listen. You care for them. Perhaps feel responsible. But you are _not_ responsible for another realm, and you _cannot_ neglect your duties here."

He wanted to tell her about the vagaries of time when traveling along Yggdrasil, but anger stopped his words. She saw it and nearly recoiled at the banked rage in his gaze.

"Loki..." she began.

"So there are no wise words. No wisdom to impart other than run like a coward, betray the teachings I was raised with, give in to _argr_ and be the foulest of the foul. _This_ is the advice you would give," Loki spat.

"You misunderstand me," Frigga replied tightly.

As much as it hurt to have her angry or disappointed in him, Loki also felt considerable pain at the thought of leaving Natasha and Bucky behind. They were _his,_ and regardless of what Frigga said, he _was_ responsible for them.

"Do I?" he asked, voice sounding distant to his own ears. "I'm to ignore the ramifications of my actions if they are inconvenient. I'm to disassociate with those not of my kind. Does that mean only speaking with the Aesir? Should I ignore the Vanir? Never travel to other realms? No longer consider diplomatic missions?"

"You are not a child, Loki. You are clever but you are willfully misunderstanding me to prove your own point. I tell you, as your mother and as your Queen, that you have duties here you must attend to." Her jaw was firm. "You didn't introduce a peaceful realm to war, but there are still so many ways that this realm can be led to ruin. You cannot know the shape of things to come for an entire realm, Loki."

"Yet I am expected to help lead this one."

"In due time! Not now!"

"But if they need guidance _now,_ it would be irresponsible of me to turn coward and run from it. How could any on Asgard stomach such a king?"

Frigga's sigh spoke volumes, for of course they could not. "There is still so much to learn."

"Perhaps if there was guidance in times of trouble, it would not be such a hardship."

She bit her lip uncertainly, then rose. "I will think on it. This is a weighty matter, and I still believe you are better off here, completing your studies."

Loki remained seated, not even looking in Frigga's direction as she left. What would she look like as she walked away? Haughty and proud, sure that she was right in all things? Or soft and fearful, afraid of the punishment that was bound to fall on Loki's head?

There was a hidden path to Yggdrasil in the castle that he was sure she didn't know about. As soon as he could, he left for the pathway, ensuring he wasn't followed. It wouldn't do for Frigga or Heimdall to know where he was and then lock down the gateway. He wasn't willing to lose his humans, and he wasn't going to wait for permission to keep them. They were _his,_ they had agreed, and he was going to make sure that his claim remained.

With the intent to find them not long after he had left Siberia, Loki made his way to the Red Room complex. He wasn't sure where exactly he would find Natasha or Bucky, or even how much time exactly had passed, but was certain that he would be able to figure it out once he got there. The illusion he put on was that of a bland-faced older gentleman, possibly one of the handlers that had been killed the last time he had been in the facility. He hadn't really been paying attention and one dead man had looked rather like every other one at the time. But it allowed him to pass through the guards and checkpoints without difficulty; he so loved how well the _seidr_ worked on mortals.

The girls he had seen in the training courtyards and classrooms were there as before. But this time, the labs were gutted and none of the brainwashing equipment was present. Those labs were now other exercise rooms or classrooms; he merely had to say he was observing the quality of the lessons and his presence was ignored. Wandering through the entire complex, he found the dormitories for the girls, little beds lined up, marks on the headboard like weathered scars. He traced his fingers along one line of them, and heard a throat clear behind him. It was the petite blonde that had once tried so hard to be like Natasha, the promising girl of her class below Natasha's. Loki couldn't remember her name.

"They don't bind the girls anymore, Comrade, if that's what you're checking on," she said, her voice low and musical yet still straightforward. She wasn't trying to charm him, then.

Then the words hit him, and his gut clenched. No, Frigga couldn't tell him he was wrong with his interference in this blasted place.

Loki nodded at her absently. "Good, good. And Natalia Romanova?" he asked in an idle tone, remembering her formal name. "Where is she now? I must meet with her."

"On assignment with Agent Barnes to Bucharest," the blonde replied with a frown. "Perhaps I could be of assistance?" she asked.

He went with her, and discovered her name was Yelena Belova. She was indeed the best of her class, and Natasha had stopped the deadly games that led the students to kill each other; survival of the fittest was no longer the order of the day. They worked together, becoming stronger all the time and working to take down Hydra. There were more of the younger girls, the program frozen in place prior to the surgical sterilization that the older girls had gone through regardless of their wishes. They were being trained with the ideology of a perfect and glorious Red Room, that they would defend their own, destroy Hydra and those of its ilk, that they would always get the job done. Russian agencies had tried to reclaim the Red Room, but every agent sent in had been cut to pieces and then returned. It was a clear message that the Red Room would no longer tolerate any outside influence, and was its own entity within the intelligence community.

Some Hydra operatives had gone to ground since that had become evident, but most remained in place, sure that their duplicitous roles would keep them safe. Those were the ones easiest to find and eliminate.

When Loki asked the date, he was stunned to realize that it had been four months since had last been to Russia. Four months! Did they believe he had shunned them?

Yelena left him when he approved of her update, and left him in one of the offices that had been designated for the various command officers. Loki couldn't blame Yelena too much for telling him everything he wanted to know, not with the _seidr_ clouding her mind and showing her whatever face she needed to see in order to trust his presence. This was _his_ Red Room anyway, even if she might not have been aware of it.

Obtaining the notes on Bucharest, Loki grasped hold of his memory of Natasha, the taste of her on his lips and the sound of her in his ears. He closed his eyes to fix the memory and use it as a way to open a portal to her current location. Never having been there before, it was a tricky thing, too easy to get wrong. If he opened the portal in the wrong place, or didn't travel the path between locations correctly, he could get lost in the Void and be ripped to shreds by the sheer force of the spell unraveling.

He tumbled down into a hotel room, not too shabby but not too upscale, either. Loki felt sticky with sweat from the exertion, and wanted to sleep. The bed was carefully made, and there was no sign of whose room it was. If it belonged to Natasha and Bucky, wouldn't it be a mess? Or had they learned to make love by now and not simply do the whirlwind fucking to prevent getting caught and reprimanded?

Exhausted, it didn't matter. He staggered forward and fell face first onto the bed, his limbs a tangled sprawl. A short nap, and then he could find them. He needed his strength up; crafting a portal to places unknown took far too much out of him. At least he had done it, though his moment of elation came crashing down when he realized he couldn't share this with Frigga. He would have to explain _why_ he had crafted it, why it was so difficult to do, and it would anger her that he didn't heed her wishes. No, this was an accomplishment he would have to revel in on his own.

Some time later, he had no idea how long, he jerked awake. There was the feeling that he wasn't alone, though he couldn't have said how he knew that. The room was dark, it likely had been hours that he had slept. Pushing himself up, he looked about the room, eyes adjusted to the gloom. There was nothing to indicate who might be there, but he focused on where the armchair had been in a corner of the room. "Natasha?" he rasped.

The corner lamp was turned on. Natasha was seated in the chair, and Bucky was standing behind her. Both had stony expressions; were they angry with him for how long he was gone? They had understood he had duties to attend to, and had been content with starting the hunt on their own until he was able to return.

"You look like shit," Bucky told him bluntly.

Natasha rose to her feet and approached Loki when he got up. "You were gone a long time."

"I didn't abandon you," he promised. "Travel was difficult. Unpredictable. I tried to focus on getting the timing right, so that I would be with you not long after we parted." He pressed his lips together, unable to read her emotions in her face or eyes. "I should craft a talisman so I can find you more easily. One for both of you."

"Not something worn," she replied. "Bracelets or necklaces can be stolen or lost. It would have to be something permanent, like a tattoo."

"Hm... Magic laced into ink?" Loki frowned. "I will have to look into that. I'm sure it's possible, but I haven't learned of such things yet."

"Not all powerful after all?" she challenged.

He grasped her by the arms and lifted her an inch off the ground. "Are you angry with me?" he growled, ignoring the protective stance that Bucky took. At least he didn't have a weapon trained on Loki, though it likely wouldn't kill him.

"I didn't want to believe that you abandoned us," Natasha replied evenly, eyes boring into his. "But as the days passed, it was harder to believe that. It was easier to think you were fucking with us, the god of mischief after all."

Loki kissed her thoroughly, tongue sliding past her lips to crash into her tongue and teeth, his frustration plainly evident. "I have disobeyed my Queen mother to be here. I would not abandon that which is mine." Putting her down to the floor, he strode the three steps necessary to yank Bucky to him, and kissed him as well. They seemed to respond to that, at least; affection had never been used by their handlers before, and was the way they cemented their loyalties to each other. There was utter devotion to each other, trust and love and knowledge mixed together, and he didn't find it so laughable now.

Now he wanted that for himself.

"I take it you've missed me as much as I've missed you?" he asked, looking from Bucky to Natasha. She reluctantly nodded, and Bucky remained silent. His eyes were pained, and Loki realized that his speech was sparing, that some habits had been trained into him. Perhaps the two had tried to get his memories back, perhaps not. But he was used to being silent, used to being used, and used to being a _thing._ It made something twist inside Loki, desire and hot shame at the same time. Was he no better?

Grasping the back of Bucky's neck, he pushed slightly, enough to signal his intent for the assassin to drop to his knees. He did immediately, and the tangled emotion inside of him flared hotter. He was already damned in his family's eyes, wasn't he? Disobedient, unruly, _wrong_ in his desire to master magic. It wasn't a man's art, it wasn't something that would be admired or cherished in battle. These two didn't see it that way, didn't feel cowed by his tricks, didn't feel frightened of his darker urges.

By the Tree, he needed that recognition. He needed that sense of company and loyalty. He needed them to love him, to want him, to be everything they could for his sake.

Opening the laces to his breeches, Loki's breath hitched. "Your mouth, Bucky," he rasped. "I will take you, fuck you. You are not to penetrate me. Ever. Understood?"

Bucky met his gaze, and there was no discomfort there at all. If anything, he seemed entirely too willing to do this. "Yes, Loki." He placed his hands on Loki's hips then drew him forward, mouth opening to take in Loki's cock.

He groaned at the feel of Bucky's mouth on him, knowing that Natasha was watching, assessing, maybe wanting to join in. He reached for her, and she was there instantly. "I walked through immense dangers to return," he rasped, feeling the prior triumph at his accomplishment sing through him. "I returned for you both," he insisted, cupping the back of her neck to pull her closer. Her arms looped around him, a flash of uncertainty in her expression, a vulnerability she surely didn't mean to show him. She had thought she didn't matter to him. She had thought she was a simple pastime, a way to alleviate his boredom. It may have started that way, and he certainly wouldn't tell her that much, but now it was more.

Kissing her again, Loki held tightly onto her and let his fingers tighten in Bucky's dark hair. His mouth was wonderful, perfect, tongue sliding along the length of him and suction just right. It was likely not his first time being told to do such a thing, and it burned Loki to realize it; would his handlers have asked if he wanted this?

Burying his face in the crook of Natasha's neck, Loki groaned at the sensation of having both of them with him. "This is perfect," he said, gritting his teeth to keep from coming right away. "I'm close," he warned Bucky. In response, the man merely sucked harder, making him gasp and tremble. Natasha pulled at his clothes until she could reach beneath the layers, stroking his bared skin, murmuring how their team was complete now that he was back. It was enough to have him coming, shooting down Bucky's throat, back arched and eyes clenched tight.

By the Roots and Branches, Loki hadn't expected this when he had first arrived on Midgard.

"I want to be inside you now," he growled to Natasha, pushing magic through his body to force it to rise again after he pulled out of Bucky's mouth. "You can take care of his needs, I just need to have you, too."

She laughed, the tension that he had seen earlier gone. "Maybe you need to earn that," she taunted, eyes glittering in the dim light. "Maybe _you_ need to learn what kind of people you've thought to claim."

 _Yes._ Something in his blood sang at the thought of her pinning him down, trying to bend him to her will. Another night, perhaps, but on this night, he would have control.

Loki shed his clothes as quickly as he could, forgetting about the convenient spells he'd developed. Natasha was doing the same, and even Bucky was removing some of the armor he had been wearing. "Tell me what you'd done in my absence. What terror did you strike in the hearts of your enemies?" he asked, advancing on Natasha as she worked her way out of the tight black pants she wore. Loki grasped her hips and pressed his burgeoning erection against her rear, leaning into her and bringing his lips to her ear. "What naughty things have you been able to do, and wished you could do with me?"

"Who said I'd need you with me?" she challenged, reaching behind her with one hand to grasp his rear and the other braced herself against the bed. There was an edge to her smile, as if she was calculating just how much she could push him.

Oh, that was lovely. He hadn't been challenged to think in a long time. Most of the noble ladies on Asgard were simpering idiots or vicious harpies, and none of them had held his interest for long. Frigga despaired of finding him a suitable match and had focused on his studies, possibly hoping that time would dull his sharper edges. Apparently, all he needed was to find the proper mortals on Midgard that could appreciate him as he was.

Loki brought one hand around her torso and closed it around her throat, and the other slid down between her legs. Under Bucky's watchful gaze, he traced her skin and licked at the shell of her ear. "Did I say need? No, I did not. I said wished." Shifting his grip on her body, Loki slid his fingers further into her. "Did you wish for me with you? Clever disguises and spells to make it easier for you to trick your enemies? Distractions to make it easier to find your targets?"

Natasha wiggled her hips a little in response to his touch and whispered words, grinding against his erection a little. Thank the stars for magic, though that might have been enough to get him to rise to the occasion again. "Maybe that could have helped. It would be easier than cutting or dyeing my hair."

"Keep the red," Loki insisted, beginning to stroke her in earnest. "It's good on you."

"In that case, I'll change it," she replied, her laughter turning into a gasp of pleasure when he thrust his fingers deeper into her and tightened his grip on her throat.

Loki looked over to Bucky, looking hungrily at Natasha caught in his hands. "Come, then," he called to him. "We'll share her. You can taste her."

As if he needed further encouragement, Bucky shed his underwear and then insinuated himself between Natasha and the bed. He gave her a desperate, filthy kiss, his hands coming up to cup her breasts. When the kiss broke, he moved to lick and suckle her nipples, using his hands to knead the opposite breast. In the meantime, Loki continued to work at her with his fingers, nipping at her neck or earlobe as she panted and moaned. Her whole body trembled, pleasure flooding her, and soon enough made a whining sound. She was close, Loki could tell, the tension too much to bear. Bucky brought his metal hand to her mound, wedging it between her body and Loki's hand as he moved. Bucky found her clit easily, knowing what she liked, and the additional pressure was enough to have her keening as she came.

When her body sagged in his arms, Loki murmured "On the bed," for Bucky's benefit. He positively ached to be inside her, to feel the wet warmth of her, to see how flushed her skin would be as she was flooded with desire. He laid her onto her back, her limbs loose and splayed outward, giving no resistance when he grasped her legs and positioned her for easy entry. Natasha let out a delicious moan of pleasure as Loki slid into her, and she eagerly returned Bucky's kiss when he leaned over her. She was disappointed when he broke it, but looked delighted when he got up onto the bed and presented her with his cock. Natasha took it into her mouth, humming a little as Bucky got into position above her.

With Bucky's back facing Loki, he couldn't see her luscious mouth as it worked Bucky into the shivering, gasping mess that he was turning into. Loki focused on his pleasure, lifting Natasha's hips so he could drive more deeply into her, so her legs could wrap around his waist and keep him from pulling too far back. He bore down hard and fast, making her squeal in delight, the sound muffled by Bucky's cock, and he had to lift a hand and grasp Bucky's shoulder to stay upright as he moved. The touch didn't startle the other man, and seemed to be welcome. Bucky threw his head back and groaned at the contact, hands tightening on the headboard enough for it to break inside his metal fist. The thought that Bucky might care for him as well, that he might actually crave Loki's presence, was enough to make Loki shiver and come.

Leaning forward, Loki pressed his forehead to Bucky's spine and struggled to catch his breath. The magic lacing his body meant he was still hard inside of Natasha, though he was exquisitely sensitive, almost painfully so. She drove her heels into his backside, an unsubtle way to tell him that she still wanted him fucking into her hard and fast, that she hadn't come yet.

"Insatiable wench," Loki grumbled, a smile on his lips, and leaned back to begin thrusting into her again. Bucky actually laughed at that, his entire body shaking, the sound rough in his throat as if he wasn't used to it. And he might not have been, which made Loki feel almost unbearably sad and upset on his behalf.

Loki kept pumping into Natasha, growling at the sensation of her tightening around him. She made a choking sound, which must have been Bucky coming, because he soon slumped forward. Loki had to let go of his shoulder or else get pulled forward, and he wasn't terribly interested in losing his balance. Instead, he let his hands slide across Natasha's stomach, until he reached her breasts. Once Bucky got off of her, sprawling across the bed beside them, Loki could see the way her eyes had lit up and the flush in her cheeks. Her lips were full and wet, driving another spark of desire through him.

"I could continue with this for hours," he purred, continuing to caress her lush curves. At her incredulous expression, Loki couldn't help but laugh. "I'd have to cheat and use magic to keep myself erect enough for that, but simply touching you? Oh yes, I can do that for hours. A most worthy use of my time."

"More worthy than your princely duties?" she challenged, pulling on his arms so that he fell onto her. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, lips curled in a sensual smile.

"Mmmm. Most definitely," he replied before seizing her mouth in a kiss. His continued thrusts picked up as she moaned, and he could feel her tighten around him, orgasm imminent. A little tease on her clit with magic, and then she was flying apart in his hands.

When he moved to kiss her neck, he could feel Bucky's metal hand at his shoulder. He turned his head and saw that Bucky and Natasha were kissing, and the hand at his shoulder was for balance, and likely to let him know that Bucky had come closer. "So beautiful," he murmured, without realizing he had said it aloud.

But they broke the kiss and smirked at him. "Only the best for a prince," Natasha said.

"Huh," Bucky said, amused. "I kissed a real life prince. Should I do it again?"

"Practice makes perfect," Natasha chirped before Loki could answer.

He moved slowly to kiss Loki, clearly telegraphing his movements so Loki could refuse it if he wanted to. But Loki remained still and let Bucky kiss him, touch soft and gentle, exploring the feel of his lips with the tip of a tongue.

"Oh. That's beautiful, too," Natasha breathed into Loki's ear. He could feel the way her nipples pebbled against his chest, the way she tightened around his cock. "I like seeing that." Her voice was husky, like liquid sex, sending a bolt of desire shooting through him. "And he's such a good kisser, so talented with his tongue."

Loki looked at them both in amusement when Bucky pulled back. "Trying to convince me that this will work? That this is to my satisfaction?"

"You liked it," Bucky told him. "I could tell that much. Maybe you don't like the idea of a fella kissing you, but you still liked it."

He thought about it for a moment, trying to figure out how to explain the concept of _ergi._ "It's not seen as something a proper man would want, though it is possible. I must tread carefully in this, as my use of magic already makes me suspect in my culture. Warriors don't rely on tricks as these, but the power of sword and shield."

"Oh, they're _that_ kind where you come from?" Bucky said. "I know what that's like. I think. I remember some things. Others are a blur. It comes back in pieces."

Natasha ran a hand over her his chest soothingly. "Give it time, love. Now that they're not erasing your memory so much..."

"Exactly. And I remember the important things."

The wording made Loki aware of the dubious gift he thought would help the Asset. "Then remember this," Loki said, shifting his weight so he could grasp Bucky by the back of his neck and kiss him as thoroughly as he had kissed Natasha. "You are mine. You belong to me and no one else until the end of time."

Something flickered in Bucky's eyes, surprise and a deep longing. "You mean it," he murmured.

"You remember something," Natasha said.

"Not a lot, but yeah."

Not feeling remotely sexual at the moment, the three of them disentangled themselves and sat in a rough triangle on the bed. They were all touching in some way, a hand or knee against a thigh, a slight squeeze of support. "Tell us."

"Uh, little things," Bucky said, frowning and starting to look uncomfortable. His eyes dropped to the bed, unable to look at Loki or Natasha. "I looked him up, the man I used to be before they grabbed me. I died. Fell off a train. But I'd been captured, experimented on, and I can almost remember that. I remember my best friend coming for me, me not believing it was real, and years after he died himself, thinking I dreamed it all up."

Loki slid his hand along Bucky's shoulders. "He was a comrade in arms."

"Army," Bucky nodded. "But Steve and I, we grew up together. When he was a smaller guy, I was the one protecting him, even if he didn't want it."

Finding himself smiling in spite of himself, Loki nodded. "So you do indeed understand the need for strength and maleness."

Bucky's laughter was a bark, almost bitter sounding. "I used to be that guy. The one that got all the girls, the one everyone looked up to. And now? I'm the boogeyman."

"And how do you feel, eliminating the shadows that created that boogeyman?" Loki asked carefully, squeezing his shoulder slightly. He was aware of Natasha watching them with luminous eyes, and hoped she approved of this.

The drawn expression on his face brightened suddenly. "Real good. Because who I was would never have worked for 'em. The only way I would was to erase me. Tells you how stubborn I can be," he laughed.

Answering his smile with one of his own, Loki saw that Natasha was also pleased by this. He squeezed Bucky's shoulder again, and nodded. It vaguely occurred to him that Thor usually made similar gestures of affection with the Warriors Three or trusted members of the palace guard. "I am very glad of that. The two of you, at least, don't feel that magic is of no value to you. I could even help you with this endeavor."

The look of gratitude on both their faces would have been almost comical if Loki hadn't wanted to see it. If he hadn't already cemented their loyalty to him, this would definitely do it. "Simple _seidr_ to mask the appearance of your arm, change your features..."

"I'd rather not keep dyeing or cutting my hair," Natasha murmured, leaning in to him and resting her chin on his shoulder. He rather liked the press of her body against him.

Loki turned and caught a lock of her fiery red hair in his fingers. "I can use this," he murmured, almost to himself. "Take your hair as a talisman," he began slowly, then let go of it so he could touch Bucky's hair. "And yours as well. Braid it with mine, and then I will always be able to find you, no matter which realm I visit. It would tax me less."

Bucky slid off the bed immediately and got one of his knives. Holding the handle out toward Loki, he asked "How much do you need?"

Could it really be that easy? None on Asgard would give him such a personal token merely because he mentioned it _might_ be useful.

Taking the knife, Loki carefully took a small lock of hair from his temple that could easily be overlooked. When he turned to request a similar lock from Natasha, he found her already kneeling on the bed, head tilted and hair brushed aside to make it easier for him. Smiling, he cut the needed hair and then took a lock of his own. They watched as he twisted them into a tight and tiny braid, Natasha's vivid red weaving between their darker strands. Loki whispered a joining spell, and the ends fused together into a bracelet. He slipped it onto his left wrist, easy enough to hide beneath his gauntlet or vambrace when fully dressed and armored. "There. Now I shall find you easily across space and time."

"And the concealing spells on us?" Natasha asked, lying back on the bed, propping herself up on an elbow to look at him.

"Any time you wish."

"Try it. Make me look like someone else."

The _seidr_ was easy to cast, giving Natasha the appearance of one of the vapid blonde nobles he had been forced to talk to at the last ball he attended so that Thor could escape to discuss historical battles with one of the palace advisors. There was even the flowing gown and robes that the blonde had worn, as well as the complex cascade of curls on her head and jeweled pins and necklace. Bucky laughed, so Loki changed his appearance into that of the same blonde woman, complete with dress and jewelry. Natasha laughed, her voice unchanged despite her appearance, and reached out to touch Bucky.

"Oh! That feels like skin," she murmured, touching Bucky's arm. Moving to the dress, she was able to tug on the fabric. "That's amazing," she said, looking at Loki with her eyes wide. He could see the childlike wonder there, and it was mirrored in Bucky's eyes. "This feels so real, like that's really a dress."

A wicked tilt to his lips, Bucky tilted and kissed Natasha on the mouth. Loki saw two Asgardian noblewomen kissing, and smothered his amused laughter. Such a thing would never be borne on his actual realm, as titillating as the sight was, and it gave him all sorts of depraved ideas. The two of them no doubt would go along with whatever he asked; he had already cemented their loyalty to him several times over by now.

Natasha let her hand fall to Bucky's breasts, rubbing his nipples through the fabric, giggling when he sucked in a breath at the sensation. "I think I like magic," she laughed.

"I know I definitely do," Bucky said.

"I can give substance to the illusion, but you are still male," Loki warned them. "It's a more difficult variant, and it might not be one you need to use all the time." He let the illusion fall, until they both were wearing their own faces. "Some subtle changes, masking the sensation of your metal arm..." Loki grinned as he ran his fingers over the metal plates. "Such things are far easier to do."

"And once we get rid of Hydra," Bucky began, a measure of hope in his voice.

"We figure out what the next step is." Natasha turned to face Loki, eyes wide and bright. "There are no other facilities like the Red Room on earth. Others have tried, but none could come close to our operatives. Even though we don't fight to the death any longer, our fighters are still the strongest, the fastest and the best. We can command whatever price for whatever mission needed. We can be whoever we want to be." A sly twist to her lips came as she ran her hand down Loki's chest. "In your realm, you're a prince. What if you were king here? King in name only," she added quickly, nodding her head slightly. "Others do the day to day logistics so that you don't have to."

Loki thought of Frigga and her endless concern that his interference in other realms would be a detriment. He thought of her advice to leave these two forever, to forget he had ever known them, tasted them, bonded with them.

Oh, no. He couldn't ever follow that sort of advice.

Curling his lips into a smile, Loki nodded. "I do believe that is quite the worthy goal."

***  
***


	4. Descend The Stair

The room was dank and reeked of mildew, only a sliver of grayish light available from the window, which was mostly covered by a torn window shade. There were no curtains or furniture in the small room, and the sound of a slow drip falling into a puddle near the doorway. Groggy and with a raging headache, the room's sole occupant sat up. While he was dressed in a suit, it was mussed, torn and had splotches of blood on it. He managed to stagger to his feet, and stumbled to the door. It was locked, and he banged on it with his fist. "Hey! Let me out of here!" he shouted at the door.

No response, no sound. There was no indication of anyone being on the other side of the door at all, making him nervous.

"I'm a US Senator!" he shouted. "I am Senator Stern from Pennsylvania! I know very important people in the military! I have money! Influence! I can help you!"

Still no response, and he sagged to the floor. He was tired, hungry, thirsty and dizzy. His skin crawled, and he felt the itch of unwashed skin and the ache of bruised limbs. This was a new experience for him, and he didn't like it at all.

He liked what came later even less.

Falling asleep where he sat, Stern had ended up on his side near the door. It banged open, hitting him in the face and breaking his nose. That was a rather difficult way to wake up, but then a very tall man with deathly pale skin and vivid blue eyes picked him up with one hand so that his feet dangled over the floor. "You will tell me who your associates are."

"I'm a US senator," Stern replied, gasping for breath. "You might want to be a bit more specific."

That earned him a shake that was enough to rattle his teeth and send the blood from his broken nose down the back of his throat. Stern choked and shook, grasping the man's wrist to try to relieve some of the pressure on his chest. The man looked entirely displeased, and Stern realized that his status as a US senator would get him nowhere.

"The associates you have in Hydra," the man intoned, pitiless gaze fixed on him.

"I don't even know what that is," Stern tried to say.

Tossed across the room, Stern cracked his head on the wall and saw stars. Jesus, he was going to die in here, and he had no idea where _here_ even was. Or how he had gotten there. He had been with some gorgeous green eyed blonde with a generously endowed chest that wanted to get an interview, and he had managed to convince her that he would only give a very private interview in his apartment. Without clothes, preferably. He couldn't remember anything more after getting into his car.

"You will tell me. Or it will begin to hurt."

"Begin?" he sputtered. "Jesus, buddy, you have no idea what the hell is going on here."

The man advanced, and there was something chilling in the way that he had absolutely no expression whatsoever. Stern could tell that not only was he going to die, it was going to be very messy, very painful, and very prolonged.

"You got to give me something to work with," Stern pleaded.

"Hydra. Names. Now."

"I don't know what you want—"

The man picked him up by the throat with his right hand. His left caught Stern's right hand and squeezed so tightly that bones ground together. The pain was excruciating, and he shouted. The man continued to squeeze, until Stern started begging for him to stop. Even then, he squeezed just a bit harder, just enough that Stern felt the shift of fracturing bone.

Stern shrieked in pain and terror, then began to sputter. "You don't understand! They'll kill me if I say anything!"

When the man squeezed his hand again, breaking more bones, Stern broke. He said everything, names, dates, positions of those in power that he suspected but didn't know for certain were Hydra members. Impassive, the man merely stared at him with his soulless eyes. Stern had heard that there were tools out there, things that had once been people, objects programmed with a set list of instructions, no mercy or soul. All he had was fear and pain and a bottomless well at the end of this nameless man's gaze.

And when Stern ran out of names to give, he gratefully shut his eyes when the man brought out a hunting knife. Its edge was so sharp, he barely felt it drag across the skin of his throat.

***

Natasha was curled in Loki's lap, nuzzling his chest and tracing odd patterns into his skin, enough to make him shiver. He cradled the back of her head with one hand and kept his other on the warding crystal that would tell him when Bucky was done. He was tired, so very tired, not used to using this much magic in such a short span of time. But the glamour on Bucky had to be done right, the wards couldn't be shortchanged, and he wouldn't allow any trace of Bucky's presence or his victim's be left behind.

"You're worrying about him," Natasha said, flicking his nipple with her tongue. "It will all be well. He's a professional. The best."

"I will be glad of it when he's back with us."

She laughed then, a lighthearted sound that at least took the edge off of his anxiety. She knew him well, after all, and Loki was new to this. He could only hope that the talisman around his wrist and his increasing facility with portal magic would be able to keep them all on similar timelines. He couldn't bear to think what would happen if he slipped sideways into the wrong time frame and couldn't return to them.

Shifting in his lap, Natasha straddled his waist, her naked body pressed tightly to his. "Then let me distract you again. It worked for a few hours."

Loki smirked at her. "Do you really think you can distract a god?"

"Are you a god?" she asked, almost taunting. "Or just a gifted man playing at godhood?" She leaned in and licked his lips, her slit rubbing against his soft cock. Neither had bothered cleaning up after their last bout of lovemaking, and she was still sticky and wet, his seed dried on her thighs and smeared across his legs. "Or maybe I make you _feel_ like a god."

Letting go of the ward crystal, Loki grasped her ass and shifted her hips, making her rock against him, teasing them both. "Perhaps I make you feel like a goddess. Or a princess, worthy of the finest that the Asgardian court could offer."

Natasha smiled, a calculating sliver of her lips, then seized his mouth in a kiss. It burned his blood, made him tighten his fingers enough to bruise. That was enough to fan the flames of his desire, to get him growing hard enough. She was clever, knowing he liked the challenge and struggle of it, that he wanted the dance of limbs and will and longing, that he couldn't have it be simple or given outright. He had to earn the right to bury himself inside her, and she had to make him feel she was worthy of that desire.

It was a good thing neither of them liked easy conquests, instead being drawn to the more dynamic and complicated.

There was nothing gentle this time around, no lazy exploration of each others' bodies with the express purpose of creating a long enough distraction. This amount of time meant that the other senator was being obstinate, as they expected him to be, and that Bucky needed more time than they originally thought. He hadn't wanted Natasha or Loki along with him, and felt that the ward crystal would be enough to let them know if he needed backup.

Some ghosts could only be exorcised alone.

Loki grabbed Natasha's hips as she yanked on his hair, exposing the line of his throat. She mouthed it, nipping with her teeth as she gyrated her hips. He groaned, hardening further, nails digging into the soft flesh. "Keep this up, I'll spill outside of you."

She bit down hard on the meat of his shoulder, and Loki thought perhaps she might have broken the skin and tasted blood. "Do that, and I'll really have to punish you."

Now it was his turn to laugh. "You? What can _you_ do?"

"Oh," she began, a throaty sound that went straight to his cock. "I have _such ideas_ for you, my lord," she purred. "If only you let me loose."

"You say that as if I constrain you."

"Don't you?" she challenged before biting down again. Loki couldn't help but groan and lift his hips a little, rubbing against her more. "Certain things, I can tell you simply won't want me to do. It would offend your royal sensibilities. It would debase you, make you nothing more than trash, wouldn't it?"

"Of what do you speak?" Loki asked, intrigued.

Lips quirked, Natasha slid off of him. "Will you let me have my way with you?"

"We'll give it a try. Until Bucky returns."

"Well, he can join in then," she returned brightly. At Loki's pause, she tilted her head to the side and contemplated him. "I see. The culture thing," she said, running the edge of her fingertip down the length of his nose. "The requirements to a noble prince."

"I am a prince of Asgard," Loki replied, reaching for her and settling his hands on her hips. "There are responsibilities and duties I must attend to."

"And you run away from them to come here." When he stilled, she gave a mirthless chuckle and ran her thumb across his lips. "You are frighteningly easy to read, Loki. In that, you are like any other man they trained us to observe."

"I am not like other men."

"In this? Yes, you are. You are born to wealth and privilege. You have your whims satisfied, and you aren't limited in what you might ask for, _as long as you conform to what they want of you._ As long as you fit their ideal of a true man, as long as you do what they say, behave as they wish, follow the rules laid out for you. Rule. Lead. Be strong at all times. Be fierce and bold and resolute." Her lips quirked a little as she took his cock in hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He couldn't breathe at the truth in her words, but there was no sense that she was saying this to punish him or taunt him. "You are to always be strong, Loki, but inside, you want to break. You want to shatter. You don't want the control they demand of you. You don't want to rule. That's why you're so content with the shadows, of the advisor's role. The power behind the throne, not the face in front of it."

"You think you know me so well?" he asked, a slight rasp to his voice.

"Powerful men are powerful men, whether they're politicians, generals, or princes." Her tone was pragmatic, not insulting. "You tire of it, Loki. That's why you found us. And we're your distraction. Oh, you were truly outraged on our behalf, I believe that. You truly want to help us. But you only found us because the need to escape was strong."

"There may be some truth to that," he hedged, which only made her laugh. "Natasha—"

"Loki." Her grip on his cock was tighter, but that edge of pain only made his blood surge and his desire mount. "I suppose the rules on Asgard are quite strict, given how much care you took to tell Bucky what he can't do for you."

Mouth dry, Loki could only nod. "Social pressures," he finally said.

"We're not on Asgard," Natasha purred. "And if I tie you down, I can have my wicked way with you. I can force you to do nothing but feel. For a time, you would belong to me, just as you ask me to belong to you. Isn't that why you really asked it of us? You want to trust us, so you don't have to command us at all times. You want to be able to let go, and with us you can." She leaned in and licked his earlobe, making him shudder. "So I will tie you down, and you will let go."

"You really think you can hold me?" he scoffed.

"If you want to be held," she replied softly, "you will be held. I trust you with my mind and my body and my heart. You would have to trust that I will do the same for you."

He trembled a little, hands tightening on her hips. He _wanted_ so badly, and was afraid to want it at the same time. "This is unheard of on Asgard," he temporized.

"We're not on Asgard," she repeated. It sounded as though she had infinite patience, as if it didn't matter what his answer would be.

But she was right. He had swooped in, and she hadn't known if he was a test or really one to set her free of the Red Room. Her sense of self had been erased and overridden so many times, and nothing was hers, not even her identity or memory. He had promised her that she would have them in exchange for loyalty, but what would he actually want to do with that loyalty? Why not use it, have her skills truly at his disposal for personal pleasures as well as a distraction and challenge for his magic? Why not see what this tantalizing offer was all about? It would be lovely not to worry about defending his honor and manhood constantly, just because his skill with magic was not common in a man unless he was unmanned in some way. Loki was a skilled fighter and mage, if not necessarily possessing the brute strength of Thor and the Warriors Three. And Hogun was from Vanaheim, not even Asgard! For him to occasionally add to Thor's jibes rankled painfully, especially when Thor laughed and didn't defend Loki.

"What would you do?" Loki asked, eagerness in his tone.

Natasha smiled at him indulgently, though her eyes raked over him as though she wanted to devour him alive. _Oh._ To be seen this way for himself, not for his position at court in the royal household, not to be used as a stepping stone to Thor's side... It was heady enough as it was, and Natasha had no idea of this kind of power she wielded. Or perhaps she did, even if she didn't know the particulars. Her understanding of his position was eerily accurate.

Loki let her push him onto his back and take the ties from his tunic to bind one wrist to the headboard of the bed. She couldn't find another similar one, so Loki merely duplicated the tie for her. There was an almost regal tilt to her head as she nodded at him that almost reminded him of how Frigga communicated with glances and gestures at Odin. It struck him suddenly that if no one knew she was human, she could very well pass as a member of court.

"If it's too uncomfortable for you," Natasha began, a thread of challenge in her tone, "I'm sure you can break free of that. But I think you can take whatever I give you. I think I can push you, and you can take it, and you can prove yourself a better man than the fools you ran from."

 _Oh._ Clever girl, giving him and out and taking it away all at once. He laughed, delighted, and gave a testing tug at his wrists. He certainly could break them, the string wasn't nearly strong enough to truly bind him, but this was symbolic. He understood that they were feeling each other out, that she was pushing him to see where her place in his life could be. If she could offer him something no Asgardian could, she would be secure. Loki would protect her and Bucky, and she could see it as a simple bargain, an exchange where they each got what they wanted. It could be seen as mercenary, and protect them all if feelings were hurt or his reputation was at risk. Clever, clever girl.

Natasha used her mouth and hands to lick and suck his balls, then she pushed his thighs up and out of her way, his knees drawing close to his chest. That gave her better access, and then her tongue dipped down, tracing a line down toward the puckered hole of his ass. Loki gasped, not thinking she would dare such a thing, but then she did, licking back and forth, then in circles around the edge of the muscle. Now he understood what she meant by her words, and he found himself endlessly fascinated and turned out by her touch. The tip of her tongue worked its way into him, and a shiver of pleasure worked its way up his spine.

She laughed and wet her finger, eyes alight with mischief. Oh, he loved that look in her eyes, the way it mirrored his own. It wasn't all bad on Asgard, he would have to disabuse her of that notion, but when he felt slighted, he resented it badly. Most of the time, his spells were fairly well received. He just didn't want to feel _less than,_ and at this moment he certainly felt so very far from that.

Taking his cock with one hand, she slipped her wet finger into his ass and then mouthed his cock. Loki couldn't help but moan, the pressure from her finger sinfully delicious. He squeaked when a bolt of pleasure shot into his balls, legs jerking. He nearly kicked Natasha in the head, making her pull back and sit on her haunches, laughing at him. Her finger was still crooked inside of him, the tip pressing against that spot, and then it felt almost like he was seeing stars. Loki groaned, pulling on the ties a little, but not intending to break them. No, he was writhing, hips jerking, breath coming in short pants as he rode the pleasure in that touch.

"So you see," she purred, leaning over to press a kiss to the head of his cock, "there are so many ways I can play with you. All you have to do is feel it." Another swipe of her finger, and he was nearly howling with pleasure, nearly coming right there like a boy with his first girl. "Just feel, my lord Loki," Natasha said, voice husky and warm, wrapping itself around his senses. This was a magic all her own, wasn't it? "Feel what I give you. It's a gift, Loki. I give you this, you give me your surrender. I'll take care of you. I'll take care of this." She leaned down to kiss his cock again as he moaned and nearly sobbed at the intensity of the pleasure flooding him. "I've got you, Loki. I've got you."

Natasha put her mouth over him just before he came, and swallowed down his seed. She kept sucking, kept moving her finger in and out of him, kept pressing at that spot that made the pleasure almost unbearable. He cried out, pulling at the ties, consumed by the feel of her, by the sensation along his skin, as if his spine was melting and his bones were liquid fire.

"By the Tree," he gasped, "I cannot, stop, Natasha, too much!"

She sucked a little harder, until he sobbed and shuddered, and retreated. Making sure she had eye contact, she pulled the ties at his wrists loose and held him close. "I've got you," she repeated firmly, stroking him gently.

It was calming, but he wasn't coming down from his high. A lassitude was in his limbs, a peace in his heart he hadn't felt before. Loki grasped her and pressed his lips to the center of her chest, her generous breasts pushed against his face. It felt less erotic and more like comfort. "And there's more than this?"

"This? That was nothing yet. I can get toys or other tools. I can reduce you to jelly, leave you sobbing for more. I can fuck you, Loki, give you such pleasure. Bucky can do it, too, if you want him to. Not because we're stealing your manhood or whatever nonsense the stupid gossips on your world would say, but because we'd want you to feel good."

"To protect you. To keep you safe," he said, her body slightly muffling his words.

"Because you're ours as much as we're yours. Isn't that so? That's why you came back, even if your mother didn't want you to. That's why you're here and helping us instead of going back home. You love your studies, you love your family, you love your stupid society. But you love us, too, and you can't leave us behind."

"Love is..." He pulled back to look at her, lips twisted into a wry expression. "Not exactly."

Natasha kissed him, his lower lip caught between her teeth for a moment. "Love is for children, they used to say. Madame B's favorite saying as she whipped us into shape, as she kept pushing and pushing and pushing. But what else do we call it? Why else risk so much for just a little bit of pleasure? Why risk punishment for loyalties that shouldn't be?" She kissed his cheeks and then his lips again. "It's not always the child's utter faith, but it's a tie just as well. It's a need, a burden, a weight. But we bear it gladly, don't we?"

Loki let his arms encircle her. "Yes, we do."

The ward crystal emitted a low pitched whine, and Natasha lifted her head to turn toward it, her lips twisting into a smile. "He's done. He's coming back to us."

As the conditions of the spell on the crystal were met, a portal opened behind it. Bucky stepped through, blood on his glamoured hands and clothing. As the portal shut behind him, the glamour dissolved in golden glitter. The blood remained, and he looked at Loki and Natasha curled on the bed with an impassive expression.

"The other senators were just as guilty as the first," he said after a moment. Almost like an afterthought, he lifted his hands and looked at the dried blood. "It took longer to work on them, though. Stern was a pushover."

"Feel better?" Loki asked, drawing back a little to get a better look at Bucky.

He stopped to consider that. "Yes, actually. I wasn't sure, but I feel... _free,_ I suppose. The ones left don't all know me. Not just because of the magic, but they don't know _of_ me. I don't exist. I'm not real to them. And they can't capture a ghost."

Opening an arm wide in a fit of magnanimity, Loki smiled. "Then come here."

"I'm covered in blood."

"So?" Loki shrugged. "It will wash. You've done so well."

It was all the encouragement he needed to come to Loki's side, to let himself get enfolded in an embrace from him and Natasha. There was only the briefest of hesitations before Loki kissed him, and Natasha pulled at his weaponry and clothing. She did it with practiced ease, stripping him efficiently and quickly, until he was as naked as they, flakes of dried blood still on his skin and making his clothes stick to each other. His eyes flicked to Loki, as if he wasn't sure what he should do next.

"Not that you've ever been squeamish before, but if you care, we can shower," Natasha commented, nodding toward the bathroom. "All of us at once."

"We won't fit," Bucky disagreed, shaking his head. "Two, sure, but not three."

"What use is magic if not to make things more convenient?" Loki declared, seeing the curve of Bucky's lips and thinking of Natasha's full ones. The both of them on their knees in front of him, mouths on him... He suddenly wasn't so very tired anymore.

Bucky was almost overwhelmed by the two of them soaping him up and scrubbing him clean of blood. Impulsively, Loki grasped Bucky by the back of his neck and pulled him in close for a filthy kiss as Natasha scrubbed at his stomach and nuzzled his abdomen. As he was starting to realize, Bucky was only too eager to follow their lead. There was still too much missing in his mind, too many empty blanks that he felt self conscious about. Natasha had been filled with false memories and personalities, and could fall on that if she felt out of place. Bucky had nothing to rely on but their lead, having only brief flashes of memories. It was coming back, but until he was fully back to himself, it was easier to let go and let others take control. Having been in just that position moments ago, Loki looked upon that state with a far kinder view than he would have even the day before.

Loki wasn't concerned with Bucky grabbing hold of him with the metal hand as he tried to remain upright and breathing normally. The assassin was only too aware of his strength, and was holding himself back for fear of hurting Loki. Charming, but unnecessary. Loki nipped Bucky's lip, rather like Natasha had done to him earlier, and raked his nails down Bucky's spine. "No need to be gentle if you don't want to be. I won't break. I'm made of stronger stuff."

He groaned and tightened his hand on Loki's arm. It was too tight, but it wasn't the kind of hurt that Loki found unbearable. Rather like Thor's grip on his arm, actually. He sent a thread of magic into his body, enough to get his body ready for sex for as long as he willed it.

Bucky pulled on Natasha so that she would stand up. "I can't... Won't break you two. Can't hurt you when you mean too much..."

"Idiot," Natasha said fondly, leaning into him and pressing her breasts against his chest as she started to stroke his cock. "You won't break us. You won't hurt us, and no one will ever make you do it against your will."

Magic words indeed, because Bucky's resolve crumpled. After losing everything, even his own sense of self, he had needed to hear that. He leaned in to kiss Loki, his mouth closest, hunger in the way he moved. Natasha pulled Loki closer and stroked them both, pressing their cocks together in her soapy fist. Oh, that wasn't terrible at all, surprising Loki. This was frighteningly intimate, for all of his words at dominating them, and he found that it was easier to go along with her suggestions than he thought it would be. Was this the reward for her loyalty? She would see to his needs, even ones he didn't know he had, and all he had to do was help preserve her sense of self? That was a simple enough request to fulfill on this world.

Natasha murmured low words in Russian, comforting ones, about how well loved Bucky was, how skilled he was, how wonderful it was to remain together. As with Loki, the sound of her voice seemed to add to his desire. His hips bucked against her and his entire body trembled in their arms. He made whimpering noises, a soft helpless sound that made Loki break their kiss so he could sink his teeth into Bucky's throat. That made Bucky throw his head back and moan, hands tight around his lovers. It didn't make him seem weak to Loki, as much as he used to think it would, because the vulnerable cast to him only made Loki feel possessive and protective of him. This was _his_ assassin, _his._ No one else but Natasha would ever see him this way, ever know how gentle he could be. Everyone else would get the hard edges and cold eyes, the solid metal fist and the burn of pistol fire.

There was a kind of power in this, too, Loki realized. As Bucky spilled into Natasha's fist, as Loki neared another climax, he realized there was a sense of power in being able to completely undo another being, to render them insensate from pleasure. "Ready him," Loki rasped, looking at Natasha. "I'll make him mine."

She slipped her slicked fingers between Bucky's legs, smiling when he gave a humorless, tired laugh. "You think I can do any more tonight, doll?"

"I could gift you with a spell to allow that if you wish it," Loki said, pushing his wet hair out of his face. He gave Bucky an almost predatory grin. "Cheating, perhaps, but I would not be so ready for you both without it."

Bucky snorted, then turned around so it would be easier for Natasha to slide her fingers inside him, stretching and stroking him from the inside out. He groaned, eyes falling shut and mouth open as he leaned against the side of the shower stall. Loki watched, fondling one of Natasha's breasts, taking over when she shifted out of the way. Bucky was tight, and pushed back to meet Loki's thrusts. He growled something that Loki couldn't understand, but the tone of it was a demand for more. Loki thrust harder into him, and turned to grasp Natasha close so that he could kiss her. She had a delighted flush in her cheeks, her eyes blown wide with desire.

When Loki came, he sagged a little, hips pushed flush against Bucky's ass. He had a loose smile on his lips, limbs loose. "God, I needed a good fucking," he murmured.

Natasha laughed and shut off the water. "I get the next set of Hydra scum," she said, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "You stay with Loki, relax." There was a naughty cast to her smile. "He's very good at what he does, and I think he'll let you show him how good you are."

The idea didn't repulse Loki, oddly enough. Maybe because this was Midgard. Maybe because Bucky didn't seek to overpower him. Maybe because it really had nothing to do with his measure as a royal prince of Asgard, nothing to do with his sense of worth.

Maybe, maybe, maybe. But even coming to Midgard had been based on a maybe, a theoretical aberration in the palace that shouldn't have even existed. Why couldn't this be true as well?

"Why wait?" Loki asked, feeling too good after his release to really appreciate the consequences of what he said.

Turning on the water again, Bucky grabbed a soapy washcloth and set about to lathering up Loki's body. His touch was strong and sure, but Loki could almost feel the tenderness in his touch, the affection for him. Bucky gently turned him, and braced his left hip with the metal hand as he slid the washcloth between Loki's legs. "Not as good as lube," Natasha said, squeezing something cold onto Loki's skin, "but this should help."

"Conditioner?" Bucky scoffed, obviously thinking it was ridiculous. Natasha only giggled, and Loki would have said something if the cool, slick substance didn't mean that Bucky's fingers slid easily into him. Natasha had loosened him somewhat earlier, and his pleasures before meant he was relaxed and open.

Leaning behind them both, Natasha reached around Bucky to stroke his cock and get him hard and ready. Loki almost second guessed his desire to go through with this; it wasn't quite a misgiving, exactly, but a spark of anxiety low in his gut and a fear of pain. But Bucky's finger inside him stroked the same spot that Natasha had hit earlier, and the bolt of pleasure shot down to the soles of his feet. "That there," he said. "Do it again."

"I think he's ready," Natasha chuckled, shifting to run one hand along Loki's flank. He shivered at the contact, and shut off the water. It was starting to run cold; while he didn't mind the cold exactly, and had a better tolerance to it than Thor, he didn't want anything to cool his desire.

And then Bucky was pushing his erection at Loki's rear entrance, slowly and deliberately moving, the conditioner helping to smooth the skin on skin slide. Loki hissed, making Bucky stop and ask anxiously "You okay?"

"It feels... good," Loki admitted, a little surprised. "I'm okay," he said, turning to look at Bucky. He bit his lip and considered pushing backward, but Bucky was moving forward already. He was slow and steady, being careful. It was a thoughtful thing to do, and wasn't the Asset at work, but the Bucky that he used to be. With a growl, Loki pushed back, forcing Bucky to bury his cock all the way in. Natasha grinned at that, the little minx, and kept touching them both. Loki reached behind him with one hand to grab hold of her, and she actually moved closer to make it easier for him to do so. "You're enjoying this."

Natasha laughed, nodding, and licked her lips as she watched Bucky start to thrust into Loki. "I like how you look," she said, curling her fingers to run her nails down Loki's flank. "That you want us. That you trust us."

Loki couldn't do more than make incoherent grunts as Bucky picked up speed. There was only a little pressure, and Bucky kept hitting the spot that felt exquisite. He could understand why some men would flirt with the _ergi_ taint, why some would do just about anything to stay with their lovers. He felt just as overwhelmed and nearly boneless as he had when Natasha had curled her finger inside of him, but this felt even more intense. This time, his orgasm was torn from him, a fire rippling along his spine and burning out every nerve ending. He sagged against the shower stall, Bucky and Natasha holding him up.

"Not so bad, huh?" Bucky laughed, trailing his fingers along Loki's spine.

He allowed them to towel him off and then led him back to bed. It was sticky and messy there, so all Natasha did was strip off the dirty sheets and take another blanket from the closet. The three of them laid in the center of the bed, and Loki had an arm around both of them, the braided talisman on his wrist a reminder of how entwined they had become.

It was startling when Natasha poked at his face, rubbing her finger along the furrow forming between his brows. "You're thinking awfully hard about something."

"I don't wish to leave you."

"But you have duties elsewhere," Natasha said with a slight nod.

"And we got more guys to kill," Bucky added.

Without even realizing what he intended to do, Loki found himself fashioning a curse spell that would target Hydra agents. It borrowed heavily from the _spá,_ which was not normally his forte. He was particularly gifted at _seidr,_ not the intricacies of fate. But then, when his spell was intended to sever all the life forces founded, it was easy to twist that kind of magic to his whim. Aware of Bucky and Natasha watching his fingers move through the air, he wondered what it was that they saw. He gave voice to the spell as it took shape, syllables of the Allspeak tongue melodious and almost like a song.

They respectfully waited in silence until he was done, and a clear globe rested between his hands. It resembled glass, with a milky gas caught inside of it.

"What's that?" Bucky asked.

Loki smiled, a baring of teeth that resembled a death's head more than his usual charming ones. Darkness glittered in his eyes, and it would have frightened Frigga if she had seen it. Neither of them were perturbed, and he looked from their expectant expressions to the globe in his hands. "I hold death to our enemies, to agents of Hydra that would slip past our sight."

"Will that get them all?" Natasha asked, hand raised as if she would touch the globe. She hesitated, inches from it, and looked up at him with an eyebrow raised in question.

"This won't harm you. Only those that claim alliance to Hydra. I don't know why I didn't think of it sooner. Perhaps because I'm not overly fond of the _spá,_ but that was the most efficient way to put together this curse."

"How do we set it off?" Natasha asked, gingerly touching the surface of the globe.

"Find a member of Hydra, bind this to him, and let the curse spread like a contagion."

Bucky smiled, a sinister one that mirrored Loki's earlier one. "We'll start with Pierce. All the senators agreed on that name as important, so he'll know lots of people."

"Excellent. And in no time, I can take you with me to Asgard."

***  
***


	5. The Moment Of My Greatness

Yelena Belova sat across from Loki in the heart of the Red Room, and she didn't look amused in the slightest. There was no obvious tell; she had been trained far too well for that. Loki knew there were five girls left in Natasha's class, and that she would likely have been the only survivor of the Black Widow program. Yelena was part of the class below her, and apparently had striven to reach Natasha's unparalleled marks on all tests placed on her. _I've never failed,_ Natasha had told him without any false modesty. He understood why. The alternative was death, in some form or other, and she would have done anything to survive.

Loki interrupted the usual ways the Red Room had weeded out the weaker girls, so Yelena was one of twelve girls in her year. Only two girls had been killed so far in the class below hers, and none at all in the younger classes. The murderous ways of the Red Room were gone. There was no need to have a deadly competition leaving only a single survivor. Now he indicated that the girls could be trained in different areas and be used on different kinds of missions. The younger girls would also not be forcibly sterilized, but would have to consent to such a thing. Some would still wish to proceed, not interested in potential motherhood. But for those who were, he had instructed the girls to be given options that would allow that in their future. They would be involved in the lives of the children, and the Red Room would soon resemble something of a murderous family unit rather than the suspicious nest of vipers it had been. He was rather proud of this change, even if Yelena didn't quite trust it yet.

He didn't have to use _seidr_ on her, but would if absolutely necessary.

"You are taking two of the best agents this facility has ever produced," Yelena repeated. Her voice could be rather melodious when she tried to be charming, but unfortunately for Loki, this was not one of those times. If anything, disapproval was more evident in her tone.

"I am leaving _you_ in charge of the welfare of our students," Loki returned pleasantly, a slight smile twisting his lips. It was hardly comforting, and Yelena continued staring stonily at him. "You are gifted, Yelena," he continued when she didn't continue to speak. "Had we continued with the old method of training, I am sure you would have been the only survivor of your class. But I'm not interested in killing little girls. I'm interested in creating a place where these girls will learn how to be the deadliest spies in the world. We will command quite the price for their services."

"We no longer serve Russia or her interests," Yelena returned, each syllable spat out. "What is the purpose of such a goal?"

His amusement, really, and maybe a backup plan if Thor decided he didn't want Loki as his advisor after all. Yelena didn't need to know that, however.

"Have you ever wanted anything out of life, Yelena?" Loki asked instead. The question clearly threw her, as her expression was perfectly devoid of any emotion at all. When in doubt, the girls further along in their training defaulted to empty canvases. It was chilling to think about all those blank faces staring at him when he had called an assembly of all the girls to announce a change in the facility's leadership.

Reaching across the desk, he took Yelena's hand. There was power in her, and he could likely read exactly what kind if he was better at the _spá._ "You have, most likely, been instructed to never want, never need, never ask. You take what you're given, and you do as you're told. You are not a real girl according to the handlers that had been here. You were a thing. An object. A doll. Something they could break as they saw fit." He could feel a slight tremor in her hand at that, and knew he had her attention.

"I propose to serve our own interests. Gather the secrets of the world to keep ourselves safe from Russia and all the other countries. They willingly gave you girls up, willingly tortured all of you, killed you if you weren't useful enough. Don't you want to prove that you're more than a doll they can shatter on a whim?"

Yelena withdrew her hand. "And you would make me the new Madame B."

"The name fits, yes?" Loki replied flippantly, but that was exactly the wrong tactic to take.

She vaulted over the desk, slamming him into the wall behind him. His vision swam from the sheer power of her strike, and her hands around his throat would cut off his air soon enough. He still wasn't interest in killing her, but he couldn't underestimate her, either. She was brittle, too easily shattered. What had those handlers done to her? What was different about her, that Natasha was so resilient and Yelena was ready to charge headlong into destruction?

Loki knocked her backward and shoved her hard into the chair. "You're right, that was rather thoughtless of me," he said, voice husky from the attack.

Her eyes were bright with anger, but she held herself in check. "You don't deny it."

"I'm sorry if I made you angry," Loki continued, then sat back into his own chair, facing her. "I did not intend that at all. I do believe you would be the best at guiding the girls. You know what they used to do here, you know how hard they need to be pushed. But not with the killing."

"That wasn't all they did," Yelena said, disdain in her voice.

"Of course not. And I stopped the hysterectomies as well. Forced ones, anyway. If the girls are sure they don't want children, they can choose to have one. If they're not certain, other methods are used until they know what they want."

"Birth control isn't infallible. What are the instructions for pregnancies?"

"If they want to continue the pregnancy, the children will be raised here," Loki said evenly. He didn't even smile at Yelena's obvious shock. "If I'm not going to kill the girls in the program, I'm not going to kill their children. The children, regardless of gender, will be raised here, trained here, and have loyalty to those of us in the Red Room. We're to be a family of sorts now, and we will protect our own."

"How do you propose to do that?" Yelena asked, caution in her tone.

"Not with manipulating them into thinking they have no choices. I don't hold with forcing them to do those tawdry things to steal secrets."

"What else do you think they use girls for?" she sneered.

"Distraction. Illusion. Misdirection." He gave her a mirthless smile. "You are stronger than you look, Yelena. I think all the girls here are."

"We train daily for hours to be so."

"I think you'll protect them. That you will recognize if any teacher abuses them, and you will stop it." He met her gaze steadily. "Natalia Romanova and the Asset are needed to eliminate the opposition to this facility. I don't know how long we will be gone. But it's to cement the future of this place, for these girls. They must have a future."

"You think the FSB will let you have us? That the Vory will let you keep the girls they traded or sold? Once the world knows that the Red Room has changed, it will be an open market."

Loki assessed Yelena, who returned his gaze without flinching. "You're very knowledgeable about this. More so than those handlers that tried to convince me they were necessary."

"I listen. I learn. I am the best, and I would be the Black Widow."

"If we still used the same system, yes you would be."

That didn't mollify her, but at least she didn't look ready to kill him outright. "So?"

"You are uniquely qualified to run the facility in our absence. But you do bring up valid concerns about the location of this facility. I can do what I can to ensure its protection." Loki thought quickly as he spoke. He was known for being clever and full of tricks, and he could certainly use a few to these girls' advantage. There were any number of wards he could place around the facility, and it would serve as nasty warnings to those who would do harm to those he considered his. But another good solution might be to shift its location entirely, carving it out of Midgard and creating its own parallel dimension, rather like his little hideaway. Using Yggdrasil's power could keep it stable and safe, and there were any number of ways he could try to put it together. He might need Frigga's help, but he was planning to be in Asgard soon. A hypothetical situation to create a pocket dimension could get him on the right track. It was what started him creating his little hideaway, after all.

"You need to do more than just eliminate some of the competition," Yelena told him evenly. "We need to make them fear us, as our prior incarnation had been feared."

"It was dismissed as a government conspiracy, was it not?"

"If Russia fears us, they will not attack. That eliminates one possible threat. The others would only attack if we seem weak."

"Plan it out."

"What?"

"If you are going to lead in my absence, I want to see how you handle it. Assess the girls, see who is ready to go on the offensive," Loki told her, meaning every word. "Pick the proper targets, see how best to get to them. I trust your judgment on this."

Yelena looked at him closely. "You barely know what I'm capable of."

"I think you are better skilled than the other girls in Natasha's class," Loki replied. "I passed over all of them to ask you to be Director. I don't think you're only a pretty face."

"Too many do."

"Your body is a tool," Loki acknowledged. "But I want your mind. I want you protecting these girls and establishing this facility as a force to be reckoned with."

Because if things went well, their skills could be used on more than one realm.

***

Taking a piece of gravel from one of the training yards, Loki felt certain he could pinpoint the exact place and time he should return to the Red Room facility. He had placed various wards around it and they extended for miles beyond the guarded walls. Yelena had picked the other four girls of Natasha's class to seduce or take down various officials within the FSB and Russian government, and she was certain it meant that they were sufficiently cowed by the current staff in place. Yelena had also extended a calling card to them, in the form of the dead officials, stating that they were ready for hire if needed. The new protocols in the facility were in place, and there was really nothing else for them to do there. Natasha had only requested to do a few Hydra killings herself. Bucky hadn't felt the need to track down any others personally, but she wanted to dissect some of the ones that had wiped him clean or worked on his body without care for whether or not he was in pain. In the meantime, Bucky had his arm checked and serviced, as they couldn't be sure that Loki could figure it out on his own in Asgard.

Asgard. He was truly taking them back to Asgard. He must have been insane. But he could possibly claim them as friends or personal guards, even though the Einherjar would likely see that as an insult. Loki could possibly simply claim royal prerogative. He certainly planned to try, anyway, and didn't think his parents would even notice.

"Are we ready?" Loki asked, looking at Natasha and Bucky. They each had a bag of belongings, mostly weaponry they felt they absolutely couldn't do without, even though he had reassured them that he would get them access to the armory.

When they indicated they were ready, Loki crafted a portal that would open out into his suite of rooms at the palace. He knew it intimiately well, and he knew he would be able to get to the correct time and place there. The pull of home was great, and Bucky and Natasha held onto his arms just in case his travel went off the path he planned. He found it a little amusing, to be honest, as he didn't find this mode of travel frightening at all. Then again, they'd never crossed into a different realm before. Soon enough they would be just as blasé about portals and travel between worlds as he was, he was sure.

It was pouring in Asgard when they arrived, making Loki glad that he had the portal open into his bedroom rather than a courtyard. It didn't often rain that heavily in Asgard, but it could during the winter season. Bucky and Natasha seemed to relax a little once the portal closed behind them, and they were all standing together in the suite. "We made it," he told them, slinging an arm around each of them. Impulsively, Loki dropped a kiss on both their cheeks, making them smile at him a little.

Putting down their bags, Natasha and Bucky fanned out from Loki's side to observe and look through the room. Natasha went to his balcony and looked out over the view. It was impressive, one he honestly stopped paying attention to long ago, but seeing it anew through Natasha's eyes brought home the pride he held in his land. "Welcome to Asgard," he said, coming up behind her. He slid his hands around her waist, and kept the smile on his face as Bucky approached to look at the view.

"Some place," he murmured.

Loki laughed. Having them both amazed at portal travel and then his simple suite relaxed him somehow. Thor sometimes called him arrogant and full of tricks, but these two would keep him from becoming truly arrogant. Thor's comrades generally didn't challenge his fits of temper, giving in when he demanded something. Loki didn't always, though his tricks sometimes were seen as mean spirited. And perhaps he didn't always challenge Thor in ways that could help him, though at the time Loki thought it might. Having someone impartial in the matter would give him a bit more perspective. They cared for him and his wellbeing, but didn't let that blind them to faults or means for improvement.

Natasha reached out to touch the rain after seeing some of the servants running through a courtyard to the side of the palace. "It's warm," she murmured, lips curling into a smile at the corners. She turned and then stepped backward into the open part of the balcony, face tipped up so that the rainfall came down over her closed eyes and face.

"You're such a girl sometimes," Bucky chuckled, shaking his head as he looked at her.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Natasha replied, dropping her head and looking at him with a grin on her face. "This is _real,_ Bucky. We're actually someplace else that isn't the tundra, this is architecture that isn't human in origin, and this is _real."_

Bucky chuckled again, reaching out to touch the polished stone of the archway. "Feels real. And really similar to home. But yeah, I see why you're excited."

Looking at the simple delight in their faces, Loki was struck by the wonder in their eyes. After so much abuse and deprivation, being able to do something as simple as standing in the rain had to mean so much. That they trusted him enough not to take advantage of this display also meant quite a bit. The look of honest joy on Natasha's face was wonderful to see. Loki had only ever thought of the rain as an annoyance, or sometimes a chance to use the water in a spell. But he saw how Natasha's clothes were plastered to her body, how she laughed and sputtered as the rain got into her mouth.

He pulled Bucky's hand and jumped into the rain with her. Both assassins laughed like children, then held onto Loki tightly. Natasha kissed him on the mouth, then Bucky, who touched his chest as he pulled Natasha into a tight one-armed embrace.

"We're home," Loki said, feeling pride rush through him. The word sent a thrill through him, and he felt like a young boy proudly presenting the final product of a complex spell to his mother, or the completed swordcraft ritual to the Einherjar tutors.

 _This_ feeling was the headiest drug of all.

***

Of course it would be impossible to hide his actions from his family or Heimdall. So Loki made a preemptive move to introduce Natasha and Bucky to his personal tailor in the palace. A simple glamour covered the metal arm, and the tailor quickly fashioned appropriate clothing for the two of them. Bucky was expected to carry at least a dagger on his person at all times, which went a long way in easing the transition for his clothing. He was particularly pleased with the clever ways to hide additional blades in the ornamentation on the formal dress, which would place him at the rank of a jarl. It would be impossible to pass him off as a high jarl or even a royal, but a simple jarl was possible and would pass muster in court. None of the simpering noblewomen would ever think to doubt Loki's word if he declared them from a small but loyal house recently elevated to the level of jarl. It happened all the time, after all.

Natasha was less than pleased with the flowing drapes of the robes over the tunics and dress. It was more difficult to hide blades on her person, and the tailor appeared scandalized that she would even want one. "But your kin and the Einherjar would protect you, my lady," the tailor stammered as she glared at him. Loki managed not to laugh, and vowed to help her devise a few clever hiding places for her weaponry. She was a weapon in and of herself, but Loki understood that having extra tools would be helpful in relieving any anxiety about the strange place.

After the first measurements and clothes were prepared, Loki's tailor hurried off to his workroom in the bowels of the palace to create a suitable wardrobe. The man was quick with his needles and craftsmanship, as was the rest of his immediate family. They had served Loki since his boyhood, and never once revealed the hidden compartments and pockets he had ordered into his clothing. They would never talk to other karls about the strange new jarls that had arrived in the palace without a retinue or wardrobe, and would never remark on the way they were overly familiar with the prince and his suite.

Strapping knives to her thighs, Natasha worked a slit into one of the seams of her dress and artfully draped a fold of robe over it. Loki found a few small but particularly sharp blades that she could possibly pass as jewelry, and she smiled warmly at him. That was enough to set his blood racing. She was every inch the picture of a highborn jarl, a knowing glint in her eye. "I'm sure you know of jewelers and craftsmen," she murmured, fingering the small blade that looked like a belt buckle. She planned to use it as a fastener for her overdress, which Loki thought was particularly clever of her. At his nod, the corner of her lips curled into a smirk. "Then I have a few ideas on how to hide more weapons. I have a feeling I know exactly how to manipulate the stupid men on this world."

Loki had to laugh. "Of course you do. I have every confidence in your skill." He crooked his arm out for her in a gallant gesture, then nodded at Bucky when she placed her fingers gingerly onto his arm. "Come. Let's meet with my mother. She is quite talented and skilled, and I think she will be pleased to meet my new companions."

Though she was regal and polite, Loki soon realized that Frigga was not as pleased to meet Bucky or Natasha as he thought she would be. The two obviously realized it as well, though none of their stiffness showed in their body language. A karl was summoned to guide the two back to Loki's suite for a light repast when Frigga claimed she had important matters of state to discuss with Loki. The two assassins bowed, their expressions impassive, and left with the karl without another word.

Once they were alone, Frigga looked at Loki in horror. "What have you done?"

He refused to be cowed by his mother's displeasure, though it still hurt him to see it. "I have brought my companions here. I can continue my studies—"

"Loki, you cannot alter the fate of other realms. That isn't right to their people, not fair to those here who would depend on you."

"How is this not fair?" he asked, frowning. "I still complete my studies here, I perform my duties, attend the required events, put on a good show. And I also travel back when possible to continue guiding my facility."

"To what purpose? Do you think you should rule Midgard?"

"It's a wild and backward place, to be sure," Loki replied somewhat flippantly, "and could certainly use guidance. But no, I've no interest in a throne on Midgard. I've never wanted the throne, Mother."

He wanted to be _needed._ He wanted to _matter._ How could she not see that?

Frigga sighed and turned away from him for a moment. "This will lead to ruin. You cannot balance the fate of an entire realm. You cannot lock away those people from their potential."

"They were being harmed, Mother. Was I to stand aside and let children die? Let those creatures pretending to be healers commit atrocities?"

She turned back to him, pain in her eyes. "Was that truly it? A compassionate gesture?"

Part of it. Part of his motivation was purely selfish. But he nodded and watched the tension in her shoulders fade a bit.

"We are meant to guide the Nine Realms, not rule them with an iron fist. We are not to be cruel, but to elevate." Frigga reached out and grasped Loki's hands. "It is not kindness to set them apart, Loki. They'll feel different and strange. I hate to think of the pain it will cause them."

"Their situation on Midgard already set them apart, Mother. I gave them purpose."

"What purpose?"

"To serve me. Our house, our needs. I had helped them escape a life of dreary servitude and pain, and in return they wish to aid us in our endeavors. How can this not be a benefit to both our realms?" Loki asked.

Frigga sighed again. "It's not so simple. It is a potentially dangerous thing, taking people from one realm to another."

"Hogun is of Vanaheim. He flourishes here."

"All who come here flourish. Asgard's golden halls are a shining beacon."

"So I would elevate them above their station. It's not cruelty, Mother. They have gifts and are quire skilled. It would be an asset to our house, I know it."

She looked uncertain, so Loki pulled her into a fierce hug. It startled her, as neither were usually so effusive with their affections. But he had learned how much touch had helped Bucky settle down after nightmares and flashbacks, how much the two of them craved touch when feeling lost and alone. Frigga eased into the embrace, hugging him back. "I haven't done this since you were a boy," she murmured, pulling back enough to brush his hair from his face. "Perhaps learning to care for others has helped you become the man you were always meant to be."

"An advisor?" he replied archly.

"Hardly," she laughed. "A true prince of Asgard. A gift to this realm, a son to me and Odin, a brother to Thor. You're growing up. Perhaps I thought of you too long as simply my student."

"And as your student, would you help me create a larger dimension?"

Frigga smiled, a familiar fond exasperation in her expression. "If I didn't, you could make very dangerous mistakes. That would do more harm than good to these children you mean to protect on Midgard. Hardly a good way to begin your protectorate."

She might not approve, really, but she would at least help him. Loki had been counting on that much, and was sure over time she would come to appreciate the two. Frigga was optimistic about Asgard's rule, but Loki was more aware of the whispers amongst the Einherjar and his father's advisors than Frigga knew. There was tension in some realms, rabble intent on causing trouble and dissent. They doubted Asgard's ability to lead the Nine Realms, doubted Odin's power and the strength of Thor's leadership. He was arrogant and boastful, though he truly was strong and fearless in battle. He had grown much in recent years, but still believed he could do no wrong and was braver than Odin.

It was seen as trickery and bordering on _ergi,_ but sometimes being underhanded and cunning was a better way to keep someone like Thor on the throne. Thor didn't appreciate being part of devious plans, but he was more than willing to reap the benefits of Loki's plans when they were in his favor. Once Thor realized just how useful having his own guild of spies and assassins to help him keep the peace, Loki was sure that he would be able to keep his companions even after rule was handed down from Odin. He wouldn't have to lose his playthings or his continued chance at machinations.

***

"Not quite the reception you expected, was it?" Natasha asked Loki knowingly when he returned to his quarters. She was lying on his bed in nothing but the sheer kirtle that went beneath the layers of fabric of her dress. The scattering of pins, jewels, knives and makeshift weapons were on his dresser, and the dress in question was puddle on the floor.

"Where's Bucky?" Loki asked, lips turned in a frown.

"Enjoying the hot spring you call a bath," Natasha returned, lips quirked in amusement. She looked to the bathroom as she arched her back and stretched, making the sheer fabric of the kirtle press tightly against her body. "We were waiting for you."

"Making use of the time together?" Loki asked archly.

"Quite possibly," Natasha said in a sultry tone. "Care to join us?"

"Of course," Loki responded without really meaning to. He locked the door to the suite and came to her side as swiftly as possible. He stripped off his clothing, making her laugh. "What?"

"So eager. With how repressed this society seems to be, I can see why you like us so much."

Loki grabbed the kirtle and tugged sharply, ripping the fine fabric from her limbs. "You like having that kind of power."

"And you like the challenge. It's a _safe_ challenge."

She was right on the mark, which Loki hated about her. She had a way of seeing into him that no one else did. It didn't even matter if he could see into her the same way; she was so used to not considering her own feelings or motivation that it almost didn't matter if he hurt her with his observations. That rather took the fun out of it, to be honest, and he also felt protective at the same time. She had been so cruelly used by the Red Room, and only seeing it up close had made him realize it. If he hadn't stumbled across the facility, he might not have cared at all.

"Natasha, there's nothing safe about you," he purred, hand on her stomach. She grinned, pleased with that statement, and let him spread her legs wide.

He brought his mouth to her center, licking into her. Natasha gasped in pleasure and ran her fingers through his hair, holding him in place even though he grasped her hips tight enough to bruise. Loki loved the taste of her and the sound of her gasps and cries; she wasn't terribly loud, but the fact that he was making her control slip enough for her to make any kind of noise fed the flames of his desire. He thrust his tongue into her or licked at her clit with a rapid pace, making her mewl and jerk beneath his mouth. Natasha tried to say something, maybe begging him to continue right where he was, but the fractured syllables never coalesced into words. Instead, her breath shattered and he could feel the tension in her thighs against his cheeks and shoulders. She was hovering close to orgasm, and a little more attention had her shuddering with a moan.

Pushing a thread of magic into his body to keep him erect and ready for sex, Loki climbed on top of her. He kissed her hard as he slid into her slicked passage, his tongue sliding into her open mouth. She didn't seem to mind the taste of herself on his tongue, and he thrust into her hard and deep, his arms on either side of her to keep him propped above her. Natasha ran her hands down his back, nails lightly scratching him, then grasped his ass and pulled him in deeper. Loki chuckled against her mouth, then pulled back. A gleam in his eye, he pushed up to a kneeling position, thrusts stuttering. "Loki," she whined.

Loki grinned at her, then lifted her legs so that they were flush against his chest. Her breath caught, and he started thrusting into her hard and fast, just as she liked it. "Oh, yes," she moaned, arching her back and digging her nails into his thighs. Her eyes fell shut, and Loki lifted her hips a little, making his thrusts slide deeper into her. She came that way, muffling her shrieks with a fist against her mouth.

"There are silencing charms on the room," Loki told her, breath coming in short pants as he continued to thrust into her. His grin was a baring of teeth, possessive and proud of himself at once. No need to tell her it was because he didn't want to get caught practicing blood magic he had found in one of Frigga's books that she had forbidden him to read. It was still a quality of his suite that came in handy for this.

Natasha took her hand away from her mouth, letting out a lusty cry that made Loki groan. He shivered, the sight of her writhing beneath him adding to the sensory input. He let go and came, groaning and leaning into her. "I didn't even do all I wanted to you yet," he growled, reaching down to play with her breasts.

She grinned up at him. "You're still nice and hard. Cheating?"

"Absolutely," he laughed.

"Bucky's in the bath. Should we join him?" she asked.

Thinking about it, Loki withdrew from her and turned her to her hands and knees. "One more, just for me, then we will."

Loki slammed into her from behind, moving quickly. Natasha's hands scrabbled across the sheets, clutching them in her fists and pressing her cheek to the mattress. She panted and moaned deliciously loud, and yanked on the sheets hard enough to tear them when she came again. Her whole body sagged against the bed, loose limbed and exhausted already, but Loki wasn't kidding about wanting to do more with her.

He carried her into the bathroom, where Bucky was lounging in the bath. The sunken tub was more like a pool than a tub, and he leaned in Loki's favorite spot near the cascading waterfall on the far wall. The entire bath was heated by a hot spring, and water circulated continuously between the waterfall and a hidden pump. Between the hot springs and hypocaust, the palace was always comfortably warm. There were also many convenient hiding places and hidden modes of travel that Loki was sure the rest of the palace staff and his family were unaware of. He would let Natasha and Bucky know about them, and show them the markings he made on the hypocaust walls to indicate locations in the palace. His pet assassins would have to know all the ins and outs of the place, as good as any of the serving staff did, as well as hold a position of some power in social circles to be able to find any threats to him or his family.

"Good of you to join me," Bucky snarked.

"The two of you celebrated without me," Loki pointed out.

"Naw, more like got each other warmed up and ready," he replied easily. He opened his arms to hold Natasha as Loki stepped into the tub, walking down the steps until he was waist deep in the water. She had a lazy smile on her face, sexually satisfied but still up for more play if they wanted it. Insatiable minx. Loki loved it.

Natasha and Bucky kissed, slow and deep, tongues sliding into each other's mouths. Loki leaned in behind Natasha, nuzzling her neck and caressing her breasts from behind. She moaned, mouth falling open against Bucky's mouth. When Loki pinched her sensitive nipples, she let her head fall back onto his shoulder. Both men could hear her moans of pleasure, and Bucky leaned forward to take one nipple into his mouth to suck. Natasha groaned and wound her hand into the hair at the back of his head, and reached behind her to hold onto Loki with her other hand. That opened up her chest, giving the men better access to her generous breasts.

Bucky slid a hand down her stomach to play with her clit. He reached around her with his other hand, the metal one, to touch Loki's hip, holding him tightly against her. Loki had only left a visual glamour on his metal arm, and felt the flex of it against his skin. The metal was warm from the soak in the tub, and not entirely unpleasant. It actually made him wonder how he could use those fingers or arm in some kind of temperature play.

 _Slow down,_ Loki told himself firmly as he sucked at Natasha's neck. _One thing at a time. Plenty of opportunity for that later._

Because of course there was going to be a later. He would make sure of it.

"I'm going to work you open," Loki growled against Natasha's ear. "Then you'll mount Bucky, and I'll enter you as well. We'll fuck you at the same time. And you are going to love every depraved moment of it."

Natasha groaned, obviously enjoying the idea of it. "Do it," she growled, tightening her hands on the two of them. "I want you to do it now."

Laughing a little, Loki shifted his position so that he could slide his fingers into her slit. She was slick from her own desire as well as the water of the bath, and he hoped it would be enough to moisten her rear entrance. If not, at least he knew soaps and lotions would ease the friction enough for this to work. He would have to pay attention to what was available on Asgard for such things, even if no one ever talked about it in polite company.

Starting with one finger inside of her ass, Loki moved slowly and methodically. Natasha groaned, a shiver working its way through her, and she shifted her hips to press back into Loki's hand. Hm. He tried sliding another finger into her, and that made her breath stutter beautifully and her fingers twitch against his scalp. Before long, he had to slide his cock into her, had to feel her body clutch at his flesh. Loki moved slowly in and out, feeling Bucky do the same inside of her slit. They worked her in an opposing rhythm, making her writhe and cry out in pleasure, nearly incoherent as she held onto them.

Overwhelmed by the sensation, Loki had to close his eyes in order to breathe. But it only made him focus more on the pleasure, and he was tumbling down toward orgasm. He murmured something in Allspeak, the utter perfection of her body fitted to his, how this moment surpassed even his most desperate of dreams, that it had to last forever.

"Fuck," Bucky ground out. "I dunno what you're saying, but it's hot as hell, and shit, I'm gonna come so hard..."

"Give it to me," Natasha growled, fingers tightening on them. "Come for me, I'm so close, too..."

Loki touched her with a twitch of magic, pressure like fingers against her clit while there were two cocks buried balls deep inside of her. She spasmed and cried out, a keening wail of pleasure that made Loki shudder with pleasure of his own. Impulsively, he reached forward and grasped Bucky's arm, the one of flesh and blood, pulling him closer. He'd only meant to reassure himself that Bucky was finding pleasure in this as well, but Bucky leaned in closer than Loki thought he would, finding his mouth and kissing him senseless.

When he pulled back, Bucky was grinning like a lovesick fool. "God, I love you both so much," he said, heartfelt emotion making him nearly tear up.

"Oh, _мой дорогой,"_ Natasha breathed. Then she pressed kisses to Bucky's and then Loki's mouth.

Instead of feeling disgusted or lost, Loki felt complete. The moment truly was perfect, and this was how it always should be.

He would destroy anyone and anything that got in his way.

***  
***


	6. Decisions And Revisions

Dressed in standard finery for jarls of the realm, Natasha held a glass of Asgardian mead in her hand and sipped it politely as she pretended to care about the insipid topics of conversation at the latest ball held by Queen Frigga. The layers of cloth draped elegantly over her limbs, hinting at lush curves yet hiding them all. Her hair was curled and styled in an elaborate concoction of cascading waves, jeweled pins with sharpened edges that could be pulled out and used as a stabbing or throwing item, and there were coils of necklaces around her throat and dipping down to draw the eyes to her breasts. Her wrists were covered with golden gauntlets that contained a hidden garrote wire and stabbing knife that would extend if she flicked her wrist with the correct angle and speed. Maeginbiorn, the royal armorsmith, had been utterly delighted to design such a weapon and had produced it within two days instead of his usual two months. It was even carefully inscribed with runes that were hidden by a concealing spell; the runes offered her protection and a measure of anonymity if she wanted it, so that Asgardians wouldn't think she was easy prey or attempt to manipulate her if the mead proved too much for her.

Thoughtful, but unnecessary.

Bucky had been dressed in a tight fitting set of trousers tucked into boots that hid two sets of throwing knives. He had a plain undertunic but an overtunic of finer fabric that had precise embroidery around all of the hems, a leather vest emblazoned with the royal seal over the left pocket, a ceremonial sword at his side with the same seal on its hilt. His hair was a little long, left loose and carefully combed back away from his face. At his wrists were cuffs similar to Natasha's gauntlets, but he had no garrote. His only had blades and no delicately inscribed runes of protection. His were purely functional, indicating that he was meant to be a bodyguard of sorts, that he was fully willing and able to protect a prince of the realm.

Loki dressed in gold, black and green, every inch a royal son of Asgard. Thor was in red and gold, his hair loose and mussed as if he had been tussling with his friends earlier. He probably had been, given that Volstagg seemed to be out of breath when they all arrived. Sif wore her silver breastplate, but out of deference to the occasion had traded in her shorter war skirt for a longer one that fell to her ankles. She had gauntlets of her own, plain silver but thick and meant to catch a blade from slicing off her arms. Her black hair was loose, only the front tied back in twin braids to keep it clear of her eyes. She did have a red outer robe to match her skirt, but it clearly was cut to show off the silver breastplate. Sif had no intention of pandering to society mores any farther than absolutely necessary.

Natasha lifted her glass of mead in silent salute to her, lips curling into a smile at the edges of her mouth. Sif appeared confused, which made Loki nearly laugh out loud. Of course Sif would be confused or suspicious. The two got along at intervals, and were combatants at others. Sif very much took offense to anything that seemed to belittle her.

Feeling the same way himself, Loki couldn't fault her on that count.

Loki ultimately drifted back to Natasha's side, Bucky behind him. That allowed him to rescue her from obvious boredom and once again give a royal stamp of approval to her presence at the ball. It wouldn't silence the jealous whispers that she was an upstart, that obviously she was a nobody and had been nothing more than a karl that bought her way into the jarldom without a care for whose estate she might push out of her way. Given the fact that the whisperer's ancestors had done precisely the same thing, Loki thought it was ludicrous to pay attention to their disgruntled talk. "They're jealous of your beauty and grace, my dear," he told her.

The translation spells he had laid over them soon after their arrival had done their job only too well. Natasha knew exactly what they were saying, so she snorted and rolled her eyes before knocking back the last of the glass in her hand. "I'm sure," she told him dryly.

"There are more interesting aspects to the palace."

"Other than your set of rooms?" Bucky snarked in a low tone slightly behind them.

It was practice that had Loki remain still and appear unaffected. Thor used to irritate him, after all, and this was nothing in comparison.

"I promise, there are far better things to practice your skills on, as pleasurable as those are."

That certainly piqued their interest. "Where are these wonders?" Natasha asked, her husky voice sounding almost like liquid sex. Or perhaps Loki was simply more attuned to it now, and aching to slide his hands between the layers of silk and gossamer that made up her dress. He preferred the touch of her bare skin, the slick of her wetness as he pushed his fingers between her thighs, the feel of her lips on his. Parties such as this were his mother's domain, and held more or less to maintain the status quo of the rigid class system. Loki benefited from it, but he didn't enjoy it and often sought to leave as soon as possible.

"Somehow I think they'll notice if we all leave at the same time, and sorry to say, I haven't memorized the palace yet," Bucky remarked in a low tone.

Because of course he would want to do that. Natasha likely did, too, but would be a little more quiet about it. She wouldn't want to be seen skulking about hallways or having to explain what she was doing.

Which gave Loki an idea.

Grinning, he touched Bucky's arm and sent a _frisson_ of magic into him. It created a copy of his current appearance just in front of him, and cloaked his actual presence. The copy nodded at him in a deferent posture, then weaved its way through the crowds, carefully avoiding the knots of people and heading toward a back hallway that led to the private living quarters of the royal family. "He's done a favor for me, as far as others will be able to tell," he mentioned in a low tone, taking Natasha's hand. He smiled as he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles in a gallant gesture. "And you and I will move to the balcony. It will look as though he's my bodyguard and you're my romantic conquest."

"I'm no conquest."

"Society won't know that," Loki replied, lowering her hand. "And we can't have them guessing the true purpose of you being here."

"Which is?" Bucky prompted.

"We're going to have you learn the palace. You have ears, you know what kinds of things to listen for in order to keep my family safe." Loki's eyes flashed, a sharp edge to his grin. "You were right, I want the advisor's role. I don't want the actual rule. That means making sure my brother remains on the throne, and he's got a terribly impatient streak."

"And you don't?" Natasha teased, smiling back in a flirtatious manner.

Loki laughed, genuinely amused, and it drew the attention of some society jarls. The ladies frowned, not liking his interest in this apparent upstart into their ranks. But they couldn't openly snub her for fear of drawing his displeasure, which just amused Loki all the more. He despised the courtly games even as he was adept at playing it. Those fools were no challenge for him, and there was no joy in winning a game they didn't even realize they were playing.

"For the right incentive, I can be incredibly patient."

The trio went to the balcony. From there, Loki cloaked them both in an invisibility spell, just as he had with Bucky. They slipped through the crowd, hand in hand in hand, silently moving until they reached the hallway that Bucky's image had gone through earlier. The three were elated, adrenaline rushing from the possibility of a jarl crashing into them at the last moment and revealing their location.

Dropping the invisibility, Loki wove a new illusion into place, making them appear like three new servants in the palace. "There are back hallways, passages and the hypocaust to explore, my darlings," he said with a smile. "I memorized quite a few of them as a boy so I could play my tricks on Thor and his friends. They still haven't figured out how I was able to surprise them so many times."

"Don't they know that those things exist?" Bucky asked with a frown.

"Of course. But they would never consider actually using them."

"Amateurs," Natasha replied scornfully.

"Exactly," Loki replied with a grin. "Let's have the professionals show me how it's done."

They began going through back hallways of the palace and then down into the hypocaust. Loki was amused to see their attention sharp and in control, memorizing the corridors and any landmarks to guide their way. He pointed out the ones he had always used, and he could almost see them taking note of it.

A servant with a large basket of freshly washed linens turned a corner from the laundry areas, possibly heading toward the ballrooms. She stopped at the sight of the three of them, frowning a little. "You aren't in this section. What area do you normally work?"

"Kitchens," Loki lied. He at least knew where those were from.

"No, you're not," the servant insisted, voice hard. "Wrong uniform," she told them when Bucky and Natasha flashed her a confused look. "Who are you and what do you want here?"

"You think you can stop us?" Loki asked, tilting his head to the side and observing her.

The laundry maid seemed to realize she was in a precarious position, but lifted her chin in a defiant way. "If I must, I must," she replied.

Loki laughed and let the illusion fade in a golden glittery shower. The maid goggled at them, but held herself very still. "Luckily for you, little one," he told her, "I do indeed belong here."

"M-milord," the maid stammered, not sure what to say.

"I'm not angry," he told her, voice actually gentle. "You did what you should have done, for if we were assassins bent on harming my family..."

She nodded and swallowed. "It would be horrible."

"You were ready to lay your life down for the royal family," Bucky murmured.

The maid swung her eyes toward him. Though she was clearly outmatched by the three of them, she nodded. "'Tis my duty. Not all would do it, not at that cost, and they say things they really shouldn't—" She gulped and clamped her mouth shut.

"No, no, that was just getting interesting," Loki said, coming forward.

Seeing the maid twitch and look afraid, Natasha smoothly came forward and touched her arm just as Loki got to her side. "What's your name?" she asked quietly.

"Eira," she replied, eyes wide as if she was trying to figure out which one would attack first.

"He's being an intimidating prince right now, isn't he?" Natasha asked in a soothing voice, patting her arm. "But you know how men can be, right? All gruff on the outside to hide the thought that they might be in danger."

"No, never! Not from me!" Eira cried, nearly dropping the basket and looking at them all in horror. "I'm loyal and have worked since I was three—"

"Not from you," Natasha said soothingly, rubbing her arm gently. She slid her arm through Eira's and leaned in close. "But you being here proves there are vulnerabilities in the palace."

"But—"

"Because you're the first person we've seen _all night,"_ Natasha continued. She looked from Eira's frightened fact to Loki and then flicked her gaze toward Bucky. Loki took the hint and backed up toward the other assassin. "We were just bored with the party. Too many people saying silly things to try to impress a prince."

Eira tittered a little, then tried to stop herself, shooting another frightened look at Loki. "Um."

"There should be people about, right? Cleaning, cooking, laundering," Natasha continued smoothly, nodding toward the basket. "Napkins. For the party?" She waited for Eira's nod. "So where are the others? You can't be the only one doing such a task."

"There are other hallways. I was taking a shortcut..."

Natasha brightened. "Ah. Perhaps you can show us? Because I'm sure Prince Loki would feel less at risk if he realized that there _are_ people loyal to him, and they didn't just abandon the palace for the evening."

"Oh!" Eira cried, looking at them all in wide eyes. "Did you think that, my prince?" she asked, startled. "No, never, all of us in the palace, all of us are loyal to the family. I'm fifth generation laundress, my prince. We would never harm any of you!"

Loki was impressed with how deftly Natasha had stepped in and eased the girl's worries. He stepped forward with a magnanimous smile. "I do believe you. I'm sorry if I frightened you. It certainly wasn't my intention," he said, touching her shoulder. The poor girl looked star struck, and he nodded at her. "I suppose my knowledge of palace uniforms is a bit faulty."

"You shouldn't know the uniforms, milord," Eira contradicted, then bit her lip uncertainly. She likely wondered if he would be angry that she spoke out of turn, but he found that more amusing than anything else.

"Perhaps you should guide us," Bucky added. "Natasha and I, we plan on protecting the princes, and we're new to the palace."

She brightened a bit at the honor bestowed her. "Certainly. What would you like to know?"

An idea was forming in the back of Loki's mind. "Tell us everything about the people of the palace, Eira." He eased the girl's arm off of Natasha's and placed it on his own. "Perhaps you can come to serve my quarters personally, so that you can help my friends in this endeavor."

It was quite the elevation in her status within the palace. Eira was only too eager to comply.

***

It took a few more weeks for Loki to maneuver Thor away from one of his many battle practices to meet with him. "You haven't sought to spend time with my compatriots," Loki accused, "yet you always had me with you and the Warriors Three."

"Are they not your friends as well?" Thor asked, frowning.

"They were your friends first," Loki pointed out. "Occupied in solitary study of the magical arts, I had little time to make friends of my own."

"Until now. And they are quite accomplished, from what the Einherjar tell me."

Of course they were. Both Natasha and Bucky trained at various times in the practice halls, and not only kept pace with the Einherjar training at the time, but bested them. They also spent enough time with Eira to learn the servants' passages and quarters, the differences in palace uniforms, the sentries' entrances and uniforms, as well as the couriers to the outer halls and the lands outside the immediate palace. The servants all had whispers about the jarls and royals as well; most were incredibly loyal to the royals and praised them to the skies, but many of the jarls were thoughtless and rude. They all spoke as if the karls didn't exist at all.

Useful for the two spies to know, and they fully took advantage.

Loki smiled widely. "I am very much aware of their skill set." He nodded at Natasha and Bucky, a warmth in his eyes that even Thor couldn't miss.

"You're quite attached to them."

"They are very observant, clever and knowledgeable. I trust them implicitly."

"Do you?" Thor asked, surprised. "Normally, you are one to keep thoughts to yourself, the better to make mischief."

"Is that all you see me good for?" Loki asked, an edge to his voice.

Thor sighed and shook his head. "Of course not, brother. But you see to the heart of people more readily than I do, and often you have made jibes at our expense."

"I'm hardly the only one able to see others." He nodded at Natasha. "I quite value her wisdom."

"You do?" Thor asked in disbelief. "I know the female sex does not mean you are necessarily fragile," he said to her. "But what do you know of the inner hearts of others?"

"I can tell you about yourself, if you like," she replied coolly.

"You hardly know me," he scoffed.

Natasha looked at Thor critically. "Honest assessment?" she asked, though her tone indicated that she was sure he didn't actually want it. When he nodded, she shrugged. "You're proud. Of your birthright, your heritage, your prowess on the battlefield, your knowledge of tactics. But it also means you're more willing to discard advice you don't agree with. You don't take others' thoughts into consideration. That pride is going to lead to problems. You're going to make a mess of things at some point, unless you tone it down a notch and stop thinking of everything as a battle to be won. Sometimes a strategic retreat is in order."

Thor looked at her, disgruntled, not liking what he was hearing. That look only deepened when he saw Loki's open grin. "You find this amusing!"

"Of course I do. She hasn't known you as long as I have, and independently reached the same conclusion. You see why I like her."

He glowered at Natasha, however, who looked back at him, unperturbed. "What makes you say such things? You know not what I'm capable of."

The arch look she gave him had Loki howling with laughter. Thor shot his unhappy look at Loki, who only laughed louder. It was enough to draw Bucky into the conversation, when he was happy enough to ignore them and keep his focus on how the levitating toys worked.

"My people love me," Thor told Natasha. "It will be peaceful when I rule Asgard, and I will protect all of the Nine Realms with ease."

She crossed her arms over her chest, unimpressed. "And your people here on Asgard. Do you know what they want? What they need?"

"Safety, of course. None of the evil Jotnar will think to cross out of their realm—"

"No," she interrupted, shaking her head. "Meaning infrastructure. Food. Utilities. Jobs. Being able to afford things at the market."

Thor frowned at her. "The people have what they need."

"But do _you_ know what that is?" she asked pointedly.

He stared at her, flabbergasted. "I don't need to know such things!"

"Yes, you do. The title of the kingship here is _Allfather._ That's rather telling, isn't it?"

Bucky chuckled and shook his head at Thor's bewilderment. "If you don't know how something works, you can't make it better. You can't fix something you don't understand."

"It's not in need of repair!"

"Not now. But you don't know how it runs." He lifted the toy in his hands. "You know how to make this work if I break it?"

"I don't need to. I simply need to go to get it repaired."

"And if they don't got the tools," Bucky continued, "how's that gonna happen?"

Loki snickered at Thor's expression and then took pity on his brother. "Thor, do you see why it's helpful to have another opinion? Do you see why I keep them with me?"

"I suppose," Thor said uncertainly, not quite seeing Loki's point.

"You need to know how your people live," Natasha declared. "Walk around. Not as the prince, because no one will _ever_ treat you like an ordinary man."

"We're novelties, so we'd stand out, too," Bucky told Loki.

"What do you propose?" Thor asked, still uncertain of Natasha's words.

"Time to explore your kingdom as if you're an ordinary man," Natasha said. She looked over at Loki. "All we need are some new faces, and you'll see what it's really like."

Loki grinned. "Oh, this shall be the most delightful trick..."

"Brother," Thor warned.

"I won't make you hideous, I promise. But changed enough that no one would see the crown prince Thor. No one would guess at your true identity."

The _seidr_ masked all of their appearances. Loki was blond, with curly hair and vividly bright blue eyes, a bulkier frame and clothing that resembled that of a village grocer. Thor still had his blond hair, but his eyes were green now, and he also was wearing common clothes. Natasha and Bucky had their appearances changed to be that of villagers, with blond hair and blue eyes as well. They escaped the palace in this way and wandered out of the center of Asgard to the outskirts, where farms, manors and large fields for crops and livestock were kept. There was a class system on this realm, and the social rankings were rigidly adhered to. The royal family had the most power, then came the jarls. Their noble houses had varying ranks based on their service to the throne and realm, as well as the funds in the house coffers. High jarls tended to be advisors and hangers on at court. Lower jarls were the craftsmen and scholars. Karls were ordinary folk, though skilled karls could sometimes purchase their way into jarl ranks. Most karls were lesser craftsmen, tradesmen, laborers and service workers. Officially, there were no slaves or lesser men, but the few criminals on Asgard held no rank at all.

The four were dressed in the manner of the lowest karls. Thor obviously thought it was an insult to his dignity, to have his rank reversed so severely. With but a few coins in his pockets, they couldn't get much more than cheap ale, bread and a hunk of cheese, both of middling quality at the first inn they stopped at. Thor fought grimaces as he ate, though Natasha and Bucky ate as though it was fine dining. Loki didn't eat at all.

"Come, brother," Thor said, nudging his arm. "Don't care for the repast our host offers?"

"Someone must think to the future. Or did you expect unlimited coin for further meals and a roof over your head?" Loki asked tartly.

That startled Thor, and he stopped eating. "What? How long do you intend this farce to go?"

"As long as you need it to."

Natasha looked up from the trencher she shared with Bucky, having not paid extra for her own plate. "Might as well eat up. You never know when your next meal is coming."

"You sound as though you've known great hunger."

"We have," she replied simply, and finished off her cheese.

"Humans can go a few days without food without noticing too many effects," Bucky told Thor in an offhand manner. "Go without water, well, that's a harder thing to do. Without a place to stay, the first thing to do is establish shelter, source of water and warmth. Then worry about food and the job at hand."

Thor frowned at him. "What manner of man are you?"

Bucky gave him a level look and spoke with flat tones. "One that's good at what I do. People don't see me coming if I don't want them to. I get the job done."

When Thor looked at Natasha, she offered him a bland smile. "Who do you want me to be?"

"I don't understand," Thor murmured.

"In my travels," Loki began, folding his hands together on the table, "I discovered a location where children were trained most brutally to become efficient at killing, maiming and extracting secrets in whatever manner requested. They now belong to me."

"You would not be so cruel to children," Thor replied, shaking his head. "I don't believe it."

"I've changed the nature of the facility. The children are no longer tortured, but they still have their lessons, and I mean for them to use them."

"To what end?"

"Imagine, Thor. A network of spies across the realm, to confirm that tales we are told are true. To give us information on our enemies, to be able to leverage realms to our benefit."

Thor leaned back in his chair, mouth open in surprise. "Father doesn't even have such a thing."

"No, he doesn't. He has Hungin and Mungin," Loki agreed. "But they don't like you, and you are too impetuous to earn their trust."

Thor's eyes flashed, but he remained silent. It was true, after all.

"You keep pushing to obtain Father's throne," Loki continued in a low voice. "But do you really contemplate what it means? Can you live this way, among the people? Can you understand what their needs are? Anticipate them? Care for them all like children?"

Now he understood Natasha's question. "Allfather."

Loki nodded. "I haven't the temperament. I don't want the throne, brother. But you do. And this is what it will mean. Protecting every base life that depends on you for strength. Keeping food like this on the table. You may say it's not fit for your lips, and that's certainly true at the palace, but here? This is a fine delicacy for some."

Uneasily, Thor swallowed and looked about the tavern. "These are my people, you mean."

"Yes. Not just the Einherjar or warriors or jarls at the balls hosted that Mother makes us attend," Loki said quietly. "These are the ones that cannot help themselves."

"And what makes you so wise to their ways?" Thor asked curiously.

"I haven't lived as such here," Loki said, taking his brother's mug for a sip of the ale, "but I have seen it. Here and on Midgard. I've sampled a somewhat better lifestyle than this, found it wanting and very much lacking."

That seemed to give Thor pause for a moment. The others couldn't tell if he was humbled by that or not. "I'm not certain I like this life," Thor said finally.

"You're not meant to," Natasha told him.

"It's not your place," Bucky added. "It's theirs. But you have to make sure they still have a place and it doesn't all go up in smoke. War isn't glorious. War is brutal and bloody and hard, full of death and destruction and waste. People die. They're not just numbers on a page, not just a serial number to recite." His jaw clenched, anger flooding him. "You don't get to throw away lives because they're just numbers on a page, not even real people."

Natasha leaned in close, her hand on his thigh. "You're remembering something?"

"Yeah." His jaw clenched, he swallowed and looked away. "What they did to me when I was captured. What made me survive the fall. I remember."

Thor looked at him curiously, and nearly asked what Bucky was talking about. Loki met his gaze and shook his head sharply, and Thor lapsed into silence. "This can't be all of my kingdom," Thor said after a moment.

"Let's go see the fields, then," Natasha said quietly. "See how they grow the food that comes to the table, why there isn't enough left when it gets to the inns." Thor was obviously surprised at that, and Natasha rolled her eyes. "You don't listen to the talk around us? Or to what the servants say in the palace?"

"Why would I?" Thor asked, brows furrowed in confusion.

Natasha sighed as Bucky shook his head. Loki had to refrain from laughing at the sight of her aggrieved expression. "It's a wonder you think you can function as Allfather at all," she replied sternly. "No wonder Loki wanted us with him. We'll really have to whip you into shape if you're going to rule. This is unacceptable."

Affronted, Thor nearly shot to his feet in anger. Loki grasped his wrist and hissed "Don't make a scene!" at him, which made him recall that they were all under glamour. He dropped back into his seat and drank the rest of his ale, though he pulled a face and obviously didn't enjoy it.

"Don't presume to tell me how to run my kingdom when you've never been here before."

"We've been taught political theory, economics and such topics since early childhood," Natasha replied in a bored tone. "It was so we could recognize useful information when it was in front of us, and you're missing very obvious cues your own people are telling you."

"Listen to the spy, Thor," Loki told him, a slight smirk to his lips. "If you won't listen to my counsel, listen to the one who had accomplished much on her realm."

"She's a spy," Thor repeated. He turned to Bucky. "And you?"

"Assassin," he said without inflection. "Somebody has to do the dirty work."

Blowing out a slow breath, Thor looked at Loki in concern. "Brother, we must talk."

"Exactly why we're here," Loki replied, openly smirking now.

"Alone."

"What you say to me, you can say in front of them. They're mine."

Thor looked displeased by this, his lips flattening into a thin line. "This is not right. I shouldn't be tutored by tiny humans that don't understand the dynamics of Asgard. That throne is mine by right and intention. I am a fine warrior, and will make the people proud."

"Hungry people curse the names of whoever's in charge," Bucky pointed out. "Just saying."

Unhappy, Thor merely glared at him. "You have no right to speak to me this way."

"I give him that right. And you said you wanted to hear what they had to say. So you must listen to their counsel as if I had given it, and you must _think_ for once in your life, not just _react_ to it. They're not saying you're a boor and unfit to rule. They're telling you how you can become even better!"

"I am done with this game," Thor said, glaring at Loki. "I will go home and be done with it."

The other three exchanged a look, then Loki stood. "Then we shall return. But think on our discussion today. You know I'm right."

"I have nothing but the best intentions for the people of Asgard," Thor hissed.

"As do I," Loki replied, unperturbed. "Our home is grand and glorious. Our job is to ensure that it always stays that way, no matter the means to do so."

The four were silent on their way back to the palace.

***

"You think he knows we're together?" Bucky asked later that night in bed.

The three of them were snuggled together, Loki in the center. He snorted and continued running his fingers through Natasha's hair. "Of course not. He hasn't got enough imagination for that. I think it took him by surprise that he knows little of Asgard outside the palace or training with the Einherjar. He doesn't like feeling a fool."

"No one does," Bucky chuckled.

"Feeling better?" Loki asked, turning his head to look at Bucky. They had attacked each other with savage desire as soon as he had locked down the suite, roughly fucking until sated and exhausted, sweat cooling on their bodies.

"Kinda more settled," he replied, then tucked his head onto Loki's chest. He breathed slowly and deeply, but seemed less tense than before. Natasha reached over Loki's stomach and grasped his hand tightly. Bucky tilted so he could smile at her, and relaxed further against Loki.

"The memories coming back and not knowing what our place is to be," she guessed. She brought his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles gently. "Not knowing what the future is going to be."

"You make me sound like I'm trying to be a good guy," Bucky sighed.

"Aren't you?" Loki asked in surprise.

Bucky sighed and closed his eyes, a shiver rolling through him that Loki could feel. "I guess I was. Sort of. But I wasn't the best. Not that pure or good."

"Bucky..." Natasha began, sounding a little uncertain.

"He called me that," Bucky said abruptly. "The first to call me Bucky. He couldn't say Buchanan right when we were kids. I remember that. And the other kids, they already teased him so bad because he was little and sick with asthma, I told him Bucky was fine. Steve was the good one, getting into every fight in Brooklyn because he couldn't stand bullies. And look at what they made me into. Look at what they made me do."

Natasha shifted to perch her weight on an elbow, looking at him intently. "And look at what _you_ do. _You,_ not the Asset, separate from the Winter Soldier. Look at what you choose to do. Look at how you help us, when you are able to choose for yourself."

"He was a good man." Bucky's voice broke and he shuddered a little, though tears wouldn't come to his eyes. "Steve had to watch me die, and I can't even imagine how he felt. How he had to carry on, how he felt when he died. He died a fuckin' hero. I just fell."

"And you've climbed back out of the hell you were put into," Natasha told him.

"You are not cruel," Loki pointed out. "Neutral at worst, but not evil. Not brutal, not malicious, not delighting in others' pain."

"Of course you say that," Bucky began, though now the uncertain tone was in his voice.

"Because I am the epitome of kindness and sunshine," Loki drawled, rolling his eyes. "Please. I'm not so besotted that I think you do no wrong. I'm not deluded into thinking that you're an innocent. You've done things you're not proud of. Sometimes you have to in order to survive. Rather than think of it as a failing, embrace it. You're a survivor. Why is that a terrible thing to be? Your past happened. It's not that your present is a lie, but that you have changed over time in response to what went on."

"That's... Amazingly logical," Bucky said after a moment. He shifted to lie on his stomach, his chin digging into Loki's chest a bit. "Like you believe it."

Loki rolled his eyes again. "They had to erase you to make you into what they could use. Why in all of the nine realms would you believe it was what you used to be?"

"Well, it was easy."

"Killing is easy," Natasha murmured without apology. "Making them suffer is an art."

"It's an art you were well trained in. Don't shy away from it," Loki advised them. "You have skills that few others do. Use them. Find a place to belong to."

"Like to you," Bucky guessed, the corner of his lips curling into a smile.

"The thought occurred to me, of course," Loki replied in a mockingly haughty tone. He laughed when Natasha giggled. "I brought you with me for a reason, you know. Not simply because of how pathetic your realm is. Because I like you both, and I think you're useful, and I think you both are excellent company."

"We like you, too," Natasha replied, smiling at him. She giggled again at his exasperated look and pressed her lips to his chest in a kiss. "You wouldn't openly claim us if you didn't. You wouldn't stand up to your brother on our behalf if we didn't mean something."

"You're mine and you're in my home."

"And I think I understand enough about the culture to realize what that means," Natasha said quietly. "We're your family and you're ours. We can dress it up in fancy words and clauses and deeds like they do here on Asgard, but it works as it is. I don't need the words."

"I don't either," Bucky replied, lifting his head enough to stare at Loki.

"It doesn't trouble you?" Loki asked archly.

"Back before the war... I loved Steve. Not like this," he said, waving a free hand over their entangled bodies. "But in the sense that I never would've left him alone. He didn't have to be if he didn't want to be. I would've done anything for him. When we worked together before I died the first time, I killed for him, hid it if I could so he wouldn't look at me different. I loved him, and he was good. I had to live up to that. This is the same. Kind of. In the sense that I gotta do the right thing, gotta make sure we're safe. That's love, isn't it?"

Loki tightened an arm around each of them and smiled. "The best kind."

***  
***


	7. Insidious Intent

It was ridiculously easy to start creating a spy network on Asgard, especially among the servants and healers. Most of them had no idea what they were doing for Bucky and Natasha; they were eager to be social and talk about their day and who they met, and were pleased to be helping the newcomers to the realm get acclimated to the culture and society. Loki let it be known that his compatriots weren't simply newly minted jarls, but originally from Midgard; it caused quite a stir in the ballrooms among the nobility, which trickled down to the servants of the peerage. Even the servants of other households soon enough were charmed by the new jarls instead of suspicious or wary. The two humans were treated more like pampered pets at court or downright belittled and condescended to. If they had vicious thoughts in response, they kept it to themselves.

The royal servants that Bucky and Natasha came into contact with thought it was a great game to teach them about the servant's hallways and passages, the hidden stairwells and the ways in and out of the castle, the areas that even the princes weren't aware existed. When they pretended to find the castle immense, a few of the groundskeepers tittered and showed them where things were on the grounds and how it was easy for them to tell facts about the jarls and higher ranked karls based on the manner of dress, transportation and accoutrements to their carriages and skiffs. As quick as Bucky and Natasha could be, pretending to be the silly newbies got the servants to feel self important for a while, and let them speak in an unguarded manner. It also gave them a good idea of who to start following, looking for any potential risk to the royal family.

Being friendly with Eira, Natasha and Bucky began branching out with other servants in the palace that she trusted. They met with the servants in their quarters, hoping to make them feel comfortable, and explained that they were committed to serving the royal family in whatever capacity necessary. Most servants had no idea what that meant, but approved of these newcomers that listened to their stories and advice. "Most of 'em," Agnes said in a hushed tone, leaning forward to talk to Natasha, "act like we're nothing. Invisible. Our King and Queen nod at us, talk as befits our stations and their kindnesses. But the high jarls? We don't exist to them."

"So you would know many things about them," Natasha said with a gentle smile. "All the dirty little secrets they want to hide from the King and Queen. All the thoughts they don't want the royal family knowing."

"They ain't traitors to the realm!" Agnes whispered, eyes growing wide with surprise. She twisted her hands in her apron, and looked toward the door of her simple room, as if she couldn't wait to get back into the kitchens. She probably couldn't.

Natasha touched her arm gently, soothingly. "No, I don't mean that. But sometimes, they might harbor ill will toward the Allfather. He who protects us, saves our realm... He needs our loyalty, doesn't he, Agnes? He cares for the realm, and there's us to care for him."

Now the poor kitchen girl looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"It doesn't have to be someone wanting Asgard in ruins. It could be someone giving him poor advice, or hoping to win himself better favors and position at the expense of the useful ones in court. You know how it is. The whispers to shame someone so they look a fool, and then the Allfather won't listen to their counsel."

Agnes' expression eased. "Oh. That. It happens all the time."

"Yes, well, I'm new to Asgard, you know. I'd appreciate it if you could tell me things about that. Who says what, what rumors are going around."

She smiled, a pretty girl with blonde hair and bright blue eyes if she could be cleaned up and showed off. "Oh, that's easy, Lady Natasha. I can tell you stories now if you like. But I've kitchen work soon."

"I can come with you, if you've spare clothes to lend me. I'll even help you."

Scandalized, Agnes shook her head firmly and her shocked eyes were round as saucers. "Oh, no, Lady Natasha, that would never do. It's not your place."

"Back home, I did kitchen work. And lots of other dirty work. I'm not afraid of it, if that's what you think. I came here to learn and to be useful."

Obviously torn between propriety, class strictures and wanting to have company and help in the kitchens, Agnes finally nodded. "Can't call you Lady Natasha in the kitchens. A new girl borrowed from elsewhere happens a lot before balls is common."

"Would Tasha work?"

"It's different," Agnes said, wrinkling her nose a little. "And I ain't sure if I'll remember it proper, but we'll try it. I'm behind in the working."

Which was exactly why Natasha had chosen her to work with.

Bucky had gone after stable hands and grooms, who were less suspicious than they should have been but definitely saw more than they knew. From there, he tracked one of the high jarls who the grooms thought was trying to obtain the High Chamberlain post. It was very prestigious, was in close contact with the Allfather, and meant he would have open access to any archive, storage facility, armory or outpost on Asgard. The grooms thought it was a good laugh, given how he didn't have much prowess on a battlefield. Bucky knew that there were other ways to obtain positions of power, and it didn't have to be through battle.

He knew from other gossips that Varinn attended all the society balls he could get himself invited to, and no one really could tell why he should be important. His family connections were average, he didn't have particular prowess on the battle field, didn't have a clever wit, and most thought he was rather forgettable. 

Varinn had an estate in the middle district of Asgard, between the better areas that most high jarls had claimed and the areas that karls lived and worked in. Varinn recently had a very lavish wedding that the servants had remarked on, as even the karls working the estate had been invited to help themselves to the feasting. They thought it was at his bride's insistence, given that her family was well loved by the karls on their lands. She hoped that she could introduce her House traditions on her husband's lands, at which time they could become even more profitable. Varinn admittedly had little sense of how best to manage it, and had bowed to her wishes and knowledge in that area. His realm was politics, the rumors went, and she happily enough left him to it.

Bucky found it easy to work his way onto Varinn's estates. Though his lovely wife quickly recognized he didn't belong to the work staff, he easily bluffed and said he was a new hire to help in the fields while another worker was sick. She believed it since he was able to name a sick field hand, which he had picked up while hiding in the stables.

The jarl himself was in his study, where his wife had been barred from entry. There were no sounds coming from the walls when he took out a few listening devices, not even the rustling of papers or scratching of a quill. Spell work or reinforced walls, if Bucky had to guess, which meant that _something_ of interest was going on in there.

And what was also interesting was that it wasn't the only room reinforced and just as silent.

He picked the lock to the study quietly, easing the door open to let himself in. The study had a massive desk, chairs and low couches to lounge on, bookshelves crammed full of tomes and scroll cases. All of the furniture was exquisitely made and very sturdy, and Bucky could immediately see why: Varinn was kneeling on one couch, clutching the back of it, facing away from the study door. He was bare from the waist down, and a heavily muscled blond man was fucking him from behind, grunting with the effort. Varinn was groaning, occasionally growling "Harder," he commanded, voice fracturing.

How very interesting, given society's viewpoint on homosexual liaisons, especially those on the receiving end of such attentions.

Bucky let himself out and made his way back to the palace to report to Loki.

***

"I knew I didn't like him," Loki snarled, lips compressed in unhappiness.

"Because he takes it up the ass?" Bucky drawled, amusement in his expression.

Loki flushed. "I'd be a hypocrite if I said that was the reason for it," he replied. Bucky nodded and folded his hands over his stomach, lips curled into a pleasantly mocking smile. "Where is Natasha, anyway?" he asked, deflecting Bucky's attention.

"Cultivating her network of estate spies. I'd just crimp her style if I went with her. Though if she thought romancing a few of them would work, I wouldn't mind watching."

Well, now. The thought of that was far more arousing than Loki thought it would be. Hm. These mortals were very inventive, weren't they?

Bucky laughed at Loki's expression. "Yeah, good thought, huh?"

"I'm sure I could arrange such a thing," he replied, managing to sound regal about it. That only made Bucky laugh harder at him, and Loki finally lost the haughty demeanor and smiled. He sat down beside Bucky at the bench placed at the foot of his bed, expression sobering for a moment as he looked at Bucky. "Varinn has been spreading rumors about the current High Chamberlain and two of the advisors that my father trusts the most."

"You like those guys, I guess."

"It's more that they are good advisors. They seek to serve the realm, not their own interests. The last meeting I had listened in on, the economic advisor actually counseled my father to improve the irrigation in the northern fields. The route crosses his land, and would destroy a rather prime spot on his estates. But it truly would serve the needs of the other people, and my father did see that once he pointed it out. A man like Varinn would have redirected the canals so that it would destroy another man's land."

"So we'll protect the honorable and go after this bastard by embarrassing the hell out of him."

"We need him gone from Asgard."

"Patrolling another realm, maybe?" Bucky offered.

Loki mulled it over. "I can try to confer with my father."

"The girl he married," Bucky blurted out when Loki stood to leave the room. "She deserves better than some prick like him."

"You hardly discussed anything with him," Loki said in surprise.

"Well, no. But listening to his staff? Seeing what he's doing to those marriage vows? Any girl deserves better than that. The housekeeper said she's from a good House. So you can probably find one that would appreciate her more."

"And they would be indebted to me for the arrangement."

Bucky smiled. "Not all favors have to be bad ones."

"You think like a trickster."

"I've learned to be one," Bucky replied.

Loki startled himself by leaning down and kissing Bucky. "Intelligent, skilled and sly. I like it."

The smile turned into a slow, seductive one. "I see that. I like the same thing."

"Let me work on these jarls, and then we can turn you loose once I have a plan in place."

Bucky leaned back and let his legs splay wide. His grin was a saucy, self assured one. "Oh, I ain't goin' anywhere yet. This behind the scenes stuff is a little more fun than I thought it would be."

"Indeed," Loki replied in amusement. "When Natasha returns tonight, we'll have quite a bit of fun to celebrate."

***

Thor found Loki in the palace library with maps of the realm, tomes about the Nine Realms, and various spellbooks. He frowned at him, then cleared his throat when Loki made no move to look up and acknowledge he was there. Thor didn't know if Loki was simply reading or doing some kind of spell casting; he only too well remembered interrupting a spell and getting both himself and Loki sliced nearly to ribbons when a protection spell Loki was practicing went awry. Frigga had punished him severely once the healing had been completed in the soul forge, and he never forgot the lesson he learned that day: respect magic and never interrupt a casting. The energy involved in it would have to go somewhere, and usually doubled back on the caster or the one interrupting the spell.

Loki looked up from his reading and frowned. "I thought you were practicing with the Einherjar and the Warriors Three."

"We chafe with the petty practices. I would seek greater battles."

Sighing, Loki leaned back in his seat. "We are not at war, brother. There won't be great battles to be fought. There is peace among the realms."

"It is fragile. There is talk about the monsters on Jotunheim—"

Rolling his eyes disinterestedly, Loki shook his head. "That would be folly. They are _frost giants,_ Thor. Strong as you are, even you couldn't kill them all."

"Father and Grandfather fought in the great wars, and much songs were written about their glory in battle. I only seek to do the same!"

"Thor, why are you really here? Surely it's not to bemoan the lack of war."

He flushed a little, reminded that he truly hadn't meant to start this same argument again. "I have been thinking..."

"Dangerous pastime indeed," Loki snarked when Thor's voice petered out.

"You forget yourself, brother!" Thor snapped, irritated. Surely this was folly, though he knew that the Warriors Three wouldn't understand what Loki and his companions had been trying to say. They were the same as Thor, glorying in battle and tales of heroics. They cared little for the day to day running of a realm. Kingdoms were safe, that was all they needed to know. They had coin enough to purchase lodgings and food and companionship. They didn't know what it was like to live with bitter cold constantly, empty bellies or disgusting food because that was all that was available. Perhaps Hogunn had on his world, but certainly not in the shining realm of Asgard, where he had been for years.

Sighing, Thor shook his head and sat down across from Loki. "Forgive me, I did not wish to argue with you."

"Yet we seem to do so all the time," Loki said dryly.

"Our temperaments are quite different," Thor admitted. His mouth twisted a little. "You are more like Mother. Subtle, thoughtful."

"And like Father, you favor bold, brash moves."

"Aye. But your walk through Asgard as a common karl..." Thor looked up with a pained expression. "I have thought on this. It is uncomfortable."

"The thinking?" Loki asked, lips twisted into a smile.

Thor suppressed the urge to throttle his little brother. "Loki. I am attempting to be serious with you on a serious topic!"

Loki's expression sobered at least, and he leaned forward a little in his chair. Ah, that was more like it. "Please continue, then."

"The lives the karls lead. It is uncomfortable. I had not considered their point of view, or the conditions they must live in. That was rather the point your companions had, was it not? Natasha had said I am to be the Allfather and must act as a father."

"She did."

"Your methods are not ones that I agree with," Thor admitted uneasily. "But at the same time, it seems to be the only way I would know what their needs actually are."

"We have a number of honest advisors," Loki said slowly. "And some that are not so honest, some that would try to use the position of power they have for unwholesome means." At Thor's confused look, he sighed. "It has come to my attention that Varinn may not have our father's integrity at heart, and certainly not the plight of the karls."

"Honestly, I'm not sure if Father does sometimes."

"But he is the Allfather," Loki pointed out. "His will is law, and he must rule for the benefit of all on Asgard. It would hardly be fair to each individual."

Thor sighed. This was harder than he thought it would be. "I wish to help change things. To make it more fair. To be the Allfather in a proper manner."

"Meaning, in more than war and battle."

"Precisely. This is not my strength, brother. I know this. But you are clever, and this is an area you have more skill in."

Loki laughed. "Not yet king, and already you would declare me the High Chamberlain?"

Laughing along with him, Thor nodded. "A worthy honor for you, certainly. And I like you a far sight better than High Chamberlain Alfhild and his son Egill, that's truth. Their manner is too..." Thor grimaced a bit. "Cloying. I cannot see how Father doesn't fall ill with their honeyed words. It seems unmanning of them."

"You would accuse them of _ergi?"_ Loki asked in surprise.

"No, no, not that. I don't doubt their masculinity or loyalty. They are indeed trustworthy. But their worth is not of value to me. They aren't loyal to _me."_

"You want someone loyal to Asgard, Thor," Loki reminded him.

"I will be Asgard when I am king. I know as my brother you are loyal to me. Even now, before I get the crown, you work to improve my standing as king. _That is what I need._ I see this, and the High Chamberlain seeks only to counsel the king. He cares not for the future."

The expression on Loki's face was almost sour, telling Thor that his thinking didn't exactly match Thor's. But no matter, Loki was his brother and would always help him.

Thor clasped Loki's arm. "I trust you, brother. You care for the future of the realm, of our family, and even of the people. I hadn't expected that, but it's a benefit for us all."

"We have my companions to thank."

He didn't even bristle at the dry tone Loki took with him. "Then by all means, thank them for me, Loki. And if they have further recommendations for the realm, I will certainly consider them. I see that they are truly loyal to our family, not merely upstarts hoping to upend our ways as some of the rumors have said." Thor was earnest about that, and hoped that he conveyed it properly in his tone. So often, the two of them fought over mere trifles, and he didn't want this to be one of those times.

Loki appeared thoughtful but pleased, and Thor grinned as he stood to leave. He knew sometimes Loki questioned his place in the household, but this should remove all doubt. Thor loved his brother dearly, and would never wish for him to feel unworthy.

***

Bucky did a little more reconnaissance before storming Varinn's study while he was alone. He grinned at the noble's uneasy expression as he stalked forward, the royal insignia Loki had given him on his chest. Varinn would not protest a royal order, not with the pretentions of getting himself ingratiated with the inner court.

It was short work to disable the man, to get his arm twisted up behind his body, bending him over. Just to twist the knife a bit, so to speak, that lined up his ass with Bucky's crotch. "You see, I know about you," Bucky growled, tightening his metal fist. "I know how you're in love with the Crown Prince. You'd love to have him fuck you, bent over and doing his bidding. You want him in you, balls deep, fucking you hard and making it hurt, making you come because you're a pathetic piece of shit and he's giving you a gift you don't deserve. I know you like it when you're tied down and helpless, when you have to struggle and can't get away from it, when it feels like you're pushed past your limits and your body gives out."

Varinn sputtered and shook, ineffectually trying to get out of Bucky's grip. But it was also turning him on, and hearing Bucky's harsh voice made him pant. "But," he sputtered, voice weak and thin, his knees nearly giving out.

"Funny how your valet looks just like Thor. Big and built, under your control, someone you can order to do what you want and punish if he doesn't. It adds to the thrill, doesn't it? Have a karl fuck you? Have a karl punish you? And if you don't like it enough, if he steps over your lines, you can take it out on him. But what you really want is to choke on his cock, want him to do it hard until you come."

He shook in Bucky's grip, a low moan in his throat at the sound of his growled voice. "You don't know this," Varinn tried to say.

"Of course I do. I know all sorts of things about you, and I watched him fuck you right here in this room. So trust me, I know what I'm talking about. Like how you barely can stand touching your lovely, sweet wife, not even to get the heir you need to have to ensure you can keep her inheritance. Poor thing thinks she's at fault, that she's not good enough for you. But no, you've only ever wanted men dominating you. You've only ever wanted men for sex." Bucky leaned into the noble a little more, making him groan. "I know all your sins. All of them. And I can make you pay in every way possible."

Groaning, Varinn turned to look at Bucky. "What do you want?"

"You're going to leave the royal family alone. You're going to go on the mission assigned to you to an outpost. You can even take your valet, if you like. We can be generous, since you're going to be very, very far away from Asgard."

"This is impossible," Varinn sputtered, ineffectually trying to get out of Bucky's grip.

"Your wife is going to be released from the marriage contract, and she will marry some jarl of her choosing." Bucky shook him when he started to protest. "You don't understand. This is the option where you get to live. If you don't agree, your lovely wife is going to be a very lovely widow. And she gets to marry a better jarl anyway." He shook him again and paused for dramatic effect. "Personally, I hope you choose death. I have a coupla knives I want to practice with. It's been too long since I've gotten to gut somebody and watch them bleed to death."

Making a low helpless sound, Varinn sagged in Bucky's grip and nodded. "I'll do it, then. I'll do it. I don't want to die."

No one ever did, which was why Bucky knew the threat would be so effective.

***  
***


	8. Waves Blown Back

Natasha practically beamed with pride as Bucky unlaced the back of her dress. "Your mission was a success, then. And as for mine... Well, those society ladies aren't particularly fond of me, but they like the royal cachet I have. I'm considered one of the Queen's ladies in waiting, if you can believe it. Not that she asks me to do anything."

"Yet," Bucky purred, leaning in and nipping the side of her neck. "She's trying to figure out how best you would fit." He cupped her breasts as the outer layers of dress fell to the floor in a puddle of silks and laces. Only a fine lawn separated his hands from her skin, making her shiver. "I think the idea of spies bothers her."

"Thor and Odin don't seem to mind."

"They're used to war." He ran his teeth along the slope of her neck on one side, then switched to the other. "They know the utility of having us around."

"Mmmm. I like that. I've missed you."

Bucky rubbed her nipples through the fabric. "Threatening people doesn't have the same thrill lately. Mostly 'cause they don't fight back."

"This is a realm at peace," Natasha chuckled, reaching behind her to palm his burgeoning erection through his breeches. "Though that just means the elite are scheming to keep themselves busy. It's not like we wouldn't have been doing similar things on Earth."

"True enough." He licked a stripe along the back of her neck, making her drop her chin down toward her chest. Pinching her nipples lightly, Bucky smiled at her gasp of desire. "Think being here would keep us busy enough?"

"We have servants that send us information. But I'm sure we could convince Loki to set up a network of girls in servant quarters or at court. Make up a network here like the Red Room had it," she said, breath fracturing as one of Bucky's hands dipped down to caress her mound through the thin fabric. Natasha ran her nails over the outline of his erection and pressed her ass against his thighs, reminding him of how ready she could be.

"Sounds like you want to stay," Bucky commented. He almost added _too,_ but held his tongue at the last moment.

"I think you do, too," Natasha murmured, writhing prettily in his grasp.

Blowing out a breath, Bucky tore the thin fabric from her frame and bent her forward, making her shift her stance and reach out to grab the side of the dressing table for balance. She gasped as he roughly handled her hips, lips drawn back in a smile. "You missed me, huh?" she teased.

"Yeah," Bucky admitted, skimming his fingers over her bare skin. "And I like it here. That it's new and we can be together like this. And you in those dresses..."

Her laugh turned into a groan of pleasure as his fingers found her, slipping inside her and starting to stroke her. "So you like court intrigue?" she gasped, clenching down around his fingers.

"No, not that part," Bucky said, grinning at her reaction. "That's boring. But the rest of it's okay."

"Mmmm. I like that," she purred. "But I want your cock where your fingers are."

"Think you can kiss me with that filthy mouth you have?" he teased, grinning and nipping at an earlobe playfully.

"Kiss you and more," Natasha replied, reaching behind her to grasp at his hip. Bucky didn't stop her, of course, and she followed the waistline of his breeches until she came to the front ties. She tugged at them impatiently. "Get those off and get inside me."

"So eager," he growled, shifting his hips to rub his covered pelvis against her ass.

"Yes, yes, yes." She was growing more impatient. "Just get in me."

"I think you better show me what you want," Bucky taunted.

She wrenched herself from him with a sigh, then turned and pushed him toward the bed. The look in her eyes was smoldering desire, making him lick his lips with anticipation. They made short work of his clothes, and Natasha straddled him with a smile. She eased herself down over him, teasing him with a swivel of her hips and slow movements.

As she did this, the door to the bedroom opened. They both knew it was Loki; he had barred his personal body servants from entering his bedroom, and they all knew that the mortals shared his bed. They were all sworn to secrecy, and may have peeked a time or two; those were all relatively controlled situations, staged for their benefit and to add to Loki's whispered prestige below stairs. As Natasha's maid, Eira knew by now, and was flattered to have been taken into Natasha's confidence. Though she was scandalized by the thought of three people together in a sexual relationship, she understood the devotion involved in it and was honored to protect her prince and his favored companions.

"Any particular event you're celebrating?" Loki asked in arch tones.

Natasha arched her torso backward slightly, giving both men a look at the line of her body, her breasts high and nipples erect. "That we want to stay here rather than eventually go back to Earth." She grinned at his indrawn breath. "Celebrate with us."

Loki approached after shedding his clothing quickly, boots tossed aside and laces tearing in his impatience to be naked. He stalked forward until he could come up behind Natasha, clasping her breasts in his hands for himself. He nuzzled her neck, teeth scraping her skin. "You've always accepted that you're mine."

"And you're finding a place for us here," Bucky said, shifting his hips to thrust into Natasha when her own stilled. "So, we'll stay. We'll be your playthings."

"No," Loki growled, letting go of Natasha. He touched her hip with one hand, then reached down with his other to grasp Bucky's neck. "Not playthings. Not toys, like you're disposable or have no worth for me. You _matter,_ and you're _mine,_ and I would rather accompany you to your miserable, backwater realm than let you both go."

"Then get on top of him," Natasha purred, lips curling into a smile. She cupped her own breasts and swiveled her hips. "Right? It'll be fun with us all at the same time."

"Shit," Bucky groaned, hips jerking beneath her. "C'mon, then, Loki. I'll suck you off."

Loki's lips parted at the words, his cock getting a little hard at the very thought of what Bucky was offering. "You willingly submit to me," he breathed, letting his fingers trail along Bucky's chest. "Without thought of yourself, without concern for what others would say."

"Shut up," Bucky growled, taking one hand from Natasha's body to tug on his arm. It pulled Loki over, unbalancing him, sending him sprawling over Bucky's body. Bucky nipped at whatever flesh he could reach with his mouth. "I don't care what other people think. I don't care if your people say this is wrong. It's nobody else's business if I want your cock in my mouth while Natasha fucks me. It's your cock and my mouth and it should be happening right now."

He laughed, still seeming a little startled by Bucky's fierce declaration. Natasha helped Loki with his balance as he moved to straddle Bucky's head. He guided his cock to Bucky's mouth, and hissed in pleasure when Bucky's sensual lips closed over him. Bucky held Loki steady with his metal hand and reached down to touch Natasha with his flesh and blood one, thumb brushing against her clit as a reminder to start moving again.

Loki grasped Natasha's arm and pulled her closer so that he could kiss her. She rocked over Bucky, moans swallowed by Loki's mouth. He palmed a breast, roughly abrading the nipple, and grasped the back of her head to keep her still enough for his kiss. Natasha kept one hand on Bucky's chest, nails scratching his flat nipple lightly, and snaked her other around to grab Loki by the back of his neck. She closed her eyes, overwhelmed by the sensations flooding her, and sped up as much as she was able to. Loki managed to keep from bucking his hips into Bucky's mouth, mindful not to choke him, and simply tightened his hold on Natasha's body, enough that she hissed and shuddered, coming abruptly.

Bucky shifted his hips, not quite ready to come himself, growls muffled by Loki. Natasha took the hint and continued to rock her hips against him. She continued until his own counterthrusts grew erratic and his grip on her was painfully tight. Breaking her kiss with Loki to gasp for air, she tucked her head down and leaned her forehead on his shoulder. Bucky's face was flushed, and he sucked hard on Loki's cock as he moaned, entire body rigid. She stroked his chest, then ran her nails down his pecs. That was enough to tip him over and come inside of her, a strangled sound coming from his throat. Natasha turned her head to press her lips to Loki's throat, and scraped the nails of her other hand down the nape of his neck. "Your turn," she said, voice thick with passion.

When he finally came, Loki sagged against Natasha, his eyes sliding closed. He hissed when Bucky swiped his tongue across the head and sucked hard, making sure he swallowed everything down. Loki had to move off of Bucky, sprawling across the bed face first, limbs splayed and his body utterly relaxed.

Natasha moved to lay between the two men, her cheek pressed against Bucky's metal arm, and her thigh next to Loki's head. She giggled when Loki rested a hand on her ass and kissed her thigh reverently. "Nice way to celebrate, huh?" she asked with a lazy smile.

"Far better than a boring ball," Loki agreed, kissing her thigh again.

There would be details to discuss, no doubt, and arrangements to make with the Red Room back on Earth. Just a little effort, and then they could pull the strings and ensure that Asgard ran the way they wanted it to.

***

"I may have been mistaken about your intelligence project," Thor told Loki sourly as they rode through the outskirts of royal grounds. At Loki's triumphant laugh, Thor scowled. _"May have."_

"You consider my so-called trickery to be of use. It is victory indeed for me."

Thor frowned now, visibly disconcerted. "I did not seek to wage battle against you, brother."

"Did you not? Every glory of my own, overshadowed by yours. Every honor bestowed upon me, dashed and rendered worthless by you."

Looking away, Thor sighed. "I had not considered it to be such." He turned back to look at Loki with a concerned expression. "I had not thought of it at all. I didn't consider your feelings at all."

Loki scowled at him. "And now?"

"There is much I do not know of Asgard," Thor admitted uneasily. "I know even less of other realms. I know nothing of Midgard. And all I know of Jotunheim is that it's full of monsters."

"We learned far more than that as children," Loki chided, shaking his head.

"Yes, but I hadn't bothered to recall lessons outside the classroom. What does it matter if I could best others in battle?"

"What changed your mind?" Loki asked curiously.

"You and your mortals," Thor admitted, still uneasy. "I thought it dishonorable, unworthy of a Prince of Asgard. But there were indeed whispers about Varinn conspiring against Father's most trusted advisors. He sought to bilk his bride's family of their wealth, and was corrupting his household. There was also talk of _argr_ most foul."

Loki froze, stilling his horse. "Indeed?"

"I hesitate to repeat such whispers..."

"Oh, Thor, you're acting like an eager fishwife. Do tell."

"He not only behaved as a woman with his manservant in the bedroom, he has desires to truly become one." Thor swallowed and looked away, discomfited. "Bad enough to risk his manhood in a tryst with his servant, but it's done. But to be a woman..." He looked back at Loki. "Sif fights as well as any man, and I think the world of her skill. But I would not feel so easy with a man in skirts and a corset."

"There is only so much that our people would be able to tolerate."

"Just so. And I would not feel comfortable with such a man at my side. I would wonder if he was indeed a man, or brave enough to defend our home."

"You think Sif unable? Our mother?" Loki asked sharply.

Thor flushed, embarrassed. "Of course not."

"I think there is much still for all of us to learn," Loki said diplomatically. He nodded toward the outer fields. "We could disguise our faces, have the people meet commoners and see how they behave toward us. See what we would learn of our people."

That eased the tension from Thor's shoulders. "I can do that."

"And the people that my friends had trained with have others like them," Loki murmured. "I could set up a network here, a web of trained girls working for the good of our House, to make sure that traitors and conspirators like Varinn are found before they work their evil. You focus on the dangers outside of Asgard, and our web would focus on the dangers within."

Thor followed Loki's horse and shivered when the _seidr_ settled across his skin, changing him into the appearance of a higher karl. "That would be best. I believe you know what these girls are capable of, what they would find on Asgard. Would they be happy here, you think?" he asked as an afterthought, almost as if he was afraid of the answer.

Loki nodded after a moment. "Their lives were not easy in Midgard. Even in a menial servant's position to spy for the court, they would not be in danger of being harmed."

He looked at Loki, disturbed. "If Midgard is as dangerous as all that, we should save them from themselves. Asgard is the shining jewel of the Nine Realms. We should teach them the way to peace and prosperity."

"Perhaps when you are King, we could open diplomatic relations with some of them," Loki temporized. "I don't believe they're ready to know of us now."

"Too petty and tiny?"

"Precisely."

"Ah," Thor nodded and then kicked his horse into a faster gallop. "Then let us learn of Asgard, brother, and the common folk we will rule. Let us see where to place these spies you will gather for me, and where we will cement my rule."

Smirking a little, Loki nodded and followed his lead. "Of course, my King," he teased.

Thor laughed and shook his head, grinning at Loki. "Not yet. But soon. And we will be the greatest rulers Asgard has ever seen."

***

Natasha sat down in front of Yelena with a slight smile. "You've done very well. This seems to be a role you excel in."

"I do," Yelena replied. There was a satisfied air about her, though there was also a thread of unhappiness in her expression. "I am the best, Natalia Romanova. I bested your scores in all tests, and I have the best response time."

"But not in the field," Natasha murmured. "That's the problem, isn't it?"

Yelena drew her lips back into a snarl. "I have protected the girls and the babies here for nearly a year, and I truly doubt you could have done the same."

"Babies?"

Leaning back in her chair, Yelena nodded. "We've had a few girls choose to try motherhood. A few of those found it did not suit them. But we have other girls who find that it does. There are children here, and we are raising them to be more than what they would have been."

Natasha gave her a genuine smile. "I'm glad. This life is too hard for many of the girls given to the program. It's a wide world out there, and there should be the chance to experience it."

"You're not coming back," Yelena realized, looking at her with a stunned expression.

"I don't want it," she confirmed with a nod. "I have what I want. I am who I wish to be. I'm not here to take your job from you, Yelena," Natasha said gently. "I came to say goodbye. So you didn't think I'd died and didn't fulfill my promises to you and the girls."

Letting out a slow breath, Yelena contemplated that. "I won't force you to return."

"It would be interesting to see if you could," Natasha replied with a smile.

Yelena laughed and shook her head. "I'm younger, faster, stronger and better. I could do it."

"Scores on paper aren't the same as being in the field, and we both know that. But I'm not going to challenge you. That's not my intention. You are more than a collection of scores. All the girls are. It's taken me time to see that. I'm more than my programming. I'm more than my skills. I have something to offer others, and I intend to try to do that. I think you should, too." She leaned forward, a half smile on her face. "Go in the field. See how it is, see what the girls do. There's no better way to lead than to understand what it is that you ask them to do."

Folding her hands together on the desktop, Yelena leaned forward a little as well. "We are extraordinarily difficult to find. In that, you've done your job well, you and the Winter Soldier and our mysterious benefactor. No one seems to be able to follow our people. We're safe, and every agency in the world hires us. We're independent and powerful. Our benefactor has hired on some of the girls for a permanent position elsewhere, but he won't discuss it."

"His home country," Natasha replied, eyes twinkling as she smiled. "They'll be taken care of."

"You're going there, aren't you? That's why you won't return here. You and those girls, creating a network of spies under his control."

"Perhaps." Natasha shrugged and leaned back in her chair with a fond smile on her face. "But I'm also in the position of doing what I wish there. I don't have to spy. I don't have to threaten or continually be on my guard. I am, it's who I've learned to be, and I don't trust all those smiling faces just yet. It's a different way to be, and I want to try that."

Yelena contemplated that for a moment, then nodded. "And if it doesn't work out for you, there will be a home for you here. All Black Widows have a home here."

Natasha gave her a delighted grin. "Thank you. I do appreciate that."

Both women stood, and Yelena was startled when Natasha approached her and gave her a swift hug, genuinely showing her fondness. "And let us know if you ever want to see the stars or another realm. It's wild and amazing."

Giving her a look as if she was crazy, Yelena shook her head. "Someone needs to keep these girls in line, and that's going to be me. I have enough to do here." She made a shooing motion with her hands. "Go. See the stars and these fantastic places. I have no need for that, and it isn't what I want."

But then, that was what they both had wanted. It was what all of the girls in the Red Room had ever wanted: _choice._ They could choose what they wanted to do and what kind of person to be, and there would be support for it.

The future was unknown, but they would never be alone or afraid of it.

The End


End file.
